Peter’s House (2024)

Peter listed his house for sale in 2024. Wendy—his wife—had since moved out after their 45-year marriage. Sheila, their daughter, passed away in 2016. Her final request was for those she left behind to continue to enjoy life. A bed, television, camping chair, some plants, and a room full of photographic darkroom equipment kept Peter company throughout the fall. His plans to move to Victoria island did not include taking his darkroom with him. While loading a rented truck with his donated photography equipment—he told me about his life and grief. Returning to photograph the home and the man in it, I got to know Peter well enough to call him my friend.

I used a large format camera with black and white film. It felt like a ceremony, a ritual—using the same tools Peter had used during his photographic journey—to document the space his family had left.

This process is slow and impractical. However, as a form of remembrance, this does not hinder the ability for me to connect with what’s in front of the camera. Like meditation, or a walk around the park—taking my time to look. Doing the dance of and deciding where to put the tripod, how high the camera should be, what to focus on, how to expose, among other meticulous choices—parallel the listening I strive for when with a friend. Black and white negative film enables the slow craft of handmade prints, a skill that Peter has perfected over the decades, and one that I strive to master myself. Slowing down and paying attention are two values I like to emphasize in my life and in my work. Being present and mindful are core to my values and making photographs in this way feel appropriate to the delicate parts of life.

One could see these works as reminders to slow down, to remember, to appreciate the process of things. Peter admired the photographs I have made. He liked seeing his home from my perspective, emphasizing details that he had glossed over the last 30 years living there. Since his move, I have lost contact with him.