On the day that my Grandfather died, I had to go to his house to let the dog out and grab a few things. I decided to snap a few pictures of the house where I grew up, in that moment.
Though I took many more images, these were the selected set that I showed two months later for the Boneyard Arts Festival. The images were mounted to album covers that I received after his belongs were divided up.
This house was the only constant in my life. It was where I lived when I was born, again for a year during a tumultuous time, where I spent every holiday, and my summers. Even though I was alone in the house, I felt like someone was there.
