A series that was captured upon hearing the news that my cousin had been killed in a microlite crash in Hawaii.
Work Statement
I was road-tripping the the South, when I received the news that we had lost my beautiful cousin, Kimberly Lynn Buergel. I was sitting in a hotel parking lot in Nashville, Tennessee when 1 day later a song came on the car radio that broke me open. I picked up my camera, I began to snap as I cried. The soft grays and deep charcoal, the street lights and ugly fence seemed beautiful. The bare trees, the rain the glass the surfaces, the interplay of sodium color reflecting bouncing. I sat from barely dusk until black, shooting through. Or maybe I wouldn’t even call it shooting, it felt as if something were moving through me guiding my hands, my eyes, pulling all locks off of my heart until I was silently peaceful.
When I was done, I didn’t even really know what I had captured. When I reviewed the images, I cried again, as I felt I had been given a gift. For me this series, in it’s travels from what is identifiable through the abstract, recapitulates the cycle of life. Moving from the solitary light, splaying etheric shapes, through the tree bursting with casts flared from it, the moving haze of burn filtering the harsh edges of borders, faces hidden in swirling black, luminous figures beaming through abstract patterns of purest light.
This experience imbued-- Art heals. Spirit is as real as anything we can touch.