I have been scrolling through a year’s worth of photos and paging through notebooks looking for images that spark not only time and place, but my hand, eye, and heart. I imagine each image to be a leaf falling from a tree. It’s as if I have been out after sunset with my headlamp looking for myself or the trail that we have traversed. The images are less a record of where we have been, but rather more what we have been noticing.

“and I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.”

–Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Elizabeth Holland
from about January 20, 1856