PM000000110000005330 15: 2012 § 6 Comments
Home is where the heart is, but what happens when the heart is ripped out of your home? Your home becomes your refuge but at the same time it is unrecognisable – it becomes a ‘strange and unfamiliar place.’ Absence haunts the house. Every room becomes a repository of memories, every object a reminder of happier times. Remembrance of times past lies in wait in every corner, ready to pounce as you pass by.
These photographs were made in response to the death of my 17-year old daughter.