The woods surrounding my home conceal over thirty cars, a bus, a bread truck, and many sailboats. Inside the house, three stories are packed floor to ceiling. My dad’s hoarding disorder manifested after my parents’ divorce when I was eleven, and the junkyard grew with me.

The ongoing series Bad Dogs centers around my visits to my childhood home-turned-junkyard over the past decade. In the beginning, I searched for an understanding of my past from a mental distance. I haunted the property like a ghost, photographing scenes of objects that felt simultaneously familiar and foreign. The land holds a geological timeline of my family history, and I dug for artifacts of identity in the strata. I shifted my attention to my dad out of a desire to be more present and rebuild our relationship. His ever-growing accumulations pushed us apart in my teen years. Now I strive to share our story in a way that honors his trust while addressing what continues to be the greatest obstacle in our relationship. My dad's willingness and enthusiasm to create art together is an act of love that I receive with a great sense of protectiveness. I integrate myself into our performances and vignettes to make them collaborations and shift the exploration to our relationship. “What We Build” formed from my desire to intentionally reconnect and find a way to exist within the now fraught space of my childhood home. For this sub-project of Bad Dogs, we would construct and dismantle a site-specific, ephemeral sculpture sourced from the collection during each of my visits home. This created a time and space in which we could directly engage with the physical manifestation of my dad’s hoarding using our shared artistic language. Each piece was intuitively constructed based on form and color, relying on a careful balance to stay together.

I have photographed many of the objects on the property in various stages of decay and as the years go by, the element of human time is becoming evident. Our photographs together now examine our morphing roles as father, daughter, friend, and care-giver. As my dad faces physical limitations, “What We Build” has morphed into assemblages that I am creating loosely based on color with less intervention from my dad, but no less enthusiasm.