Interview by Anna Robertson

You went to Midway, Georgia to photograph the series, “Midway”. In your artist statement, you described the location as a “deep Southern community with a fading story.” Do you feel like the landscape you live in affects your process?

The landscape as a physical entity is less important to me than how it makes me feel. In the deep South, the air is heavy with humidity, the trees are monumental, the history is dark - you feel literally weighted down, which is how I felt with one young child and another on the way. In this environment, I crave space, lightness, air ...

I am fascinated by your process of painting over your images and coating them in encaustic. Can you elaborate on your photographic and printing process? Why do you return to this specific process?

Oh, the process! It is important to me, and lengthy, so in brief: I shoot film with a Hasselblad camera on a tripod, then scan, print, adhere, paint, sand, wax, coat, carve blowtorch... I consider the photographic image to be the soul of the piece, but it is actually just the beginning. I need the physicality of the process. It's essential for me to use my hands in order to feel myself a part of the final work. Blood, sweat and tears are literally in each piece I create.

You created “Midway” after the death of your father and during the birth of your two children. Your photographs and your artist statement suggest that you seemed suspended in time during this period of your life. Do you think creating work helped to center you?

I felt so detached after losing my dad, untethered in the world. He was my rock and suddenly I was lost at sea. When I gave birth to my first child, it was a very difficult delivery and I almost lost my own life. The profundity of life and death and the thin line between the two was immediate and undeniable. Art is very much a cathartic process, but it is also a painful one, dredging up emotions that I thought I had resolved.

Whether it centers me or not, creating art is something I feel I have to do, for it is the way I communicate with the world.

At the end of your series, you included a short poem. Do you often write poetry with your photographs? How do you think photography and writing relate to one another?

NO! I am neither a writer nor a poet. In fact, I am horrible at it. What I am is brave and if I make something that feels right - authentic, if you will - I will throw it out for the world to see.

WCW Questionnaire:

Describe your creative process in one word.

Endurance

If you could teach a one-hour class on anything, what would it be?

Photography Right NOW! I am so thrilled by what is happening in our medium, particularly with women. Photography is blowing up to encompass installation, assemblage, film, the use of alternative spaces .. It is ever expanding and all very exciting!

What was the last book you read or film you saw that inspired you?

Reading probably informs my work the most. I want to be swept away through magical realism like Isabelle Allende or strong narrative works by John Irving. Surprisingly, the answer is the film, Temple Grandin. My son was just diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder so adapting to this new reality consumes my life right now. The movie does an incredible job of conceptualizing visual thinking, and imaging the emotional experiences of anxiety and panic.

What is the most played song in your music library?

Anything by The Be Good Tanyas. I was introduced to them recently by co-conspirator and artist Lori Vrba when creating the show, Kindred.

How do you take your coffee?

Any and every which way I can get it!