As I was pulling weeds from the garden, I came across her red hair and eggshells buried in the soil.  During the fog of her chemotherapy, my mother-in-law was fertilizing the geraniums with herself and the leftovers from breakfast.  This discovery is woven into our family’s mythology, after we inherited my wife’s childhood home, a Cinderella house on a street with only one way out.  Cul-de-sac is a luminous tapestry of visual stories, intertwining our family’s legacy of ghosts and love. 

The performances began after nightfall, while our kids were watching TV.  I would point the camera into the corners and eddies of our backyard and neighborhood, searching for life in the dark.  With marks of light and sculpting with color, I reinterpreted my own sense of family.  These were the years of my midlife passage, as photography was moving away from analog cameras and film.  In time, our cul-de-sac became a vibrant neighborhood, filled with art, laughter, and a future we could not have envisioned when I first pulled those weeds.