“Mapping the History of the Moon” is a project that explores memory, time, and those unseen hours that happen after dark.  It began the last night I spent in the house that I had known since childhood.  After my parents passed away, I was left with the difficult task of quickly dismantling a house filled with memories and personal artifacts.  I only had a few hours until the place that defined home would belong to someone else, and I was struck by the transitory nature of material possessions and how a life lived is summed up by small memories—memories that were packed in boxes that might never be revisited.

Leaving the house in the middle of the night, I stepped into the tree-filled garden transformed by the ethereal light of a full moon.  It was a house that I had escaped from, held my secrets, and even though I had never felt as if I belonged in that house, or belonged anywhere for that matter, I knew that I would never be able to return.

Camera in hand I was drawn into the garden. Using long, random exposures, I began to photograph this darkened and mysterious landscape as if instinctually wanting to embody the way in which this liminal space defied the certainties of measurable time.  The moon defined the spaces that were important and revealed a way to hold memories in a new incarnation.  Here is where I felt I belonged.

Since that night, photographing during the full moon has become my ritual, my measurement of time and place.  Each full moon invokes for me the memory of that long ago moonlit night.  It has become the time and place that establishes a constant that I now call home.