my grandfather's home has been the location for several shoots of mine, some of which have been published online, others that have not. his home is special to me, something that will always hold a place in my heart and in my mind. i spent many days in that home while i was growing up and i can remember so many happy memories in that house. i can see myself running up and down the staircase, falling and slipping and attacking my cousins as we raced for whatever new toy had been brought in the house by the older cousins. i can see my whole family laughing around the table and eating and making silly jokes and i can remember putting on performances for our parents in whatever clothes we could find. every time i am in that home, it's like my childhood is played back to me. you cannot see much of the home in these images, but this house deserves a post of its own, and you will be able to see how lovely a house it is.
the location that I shot this story in was an abandoned house and when you're in it, you almost feel invasive yet oddly at home. it's as if you could imagine the home in its former glory and you begin to realize how real that house was to someone once before and that they spent part of their lives in that house. and they laughed and cried and felt pain and joy and everything is gone now. they've all been forgotten in a way. those walls no longer held photographs. every room void of any sign of previous life, except for a small room on the second floor that is dotted with small childlike paintings of butterflies and other creatures. there was even a name stenciled on the wall. i've since forgotten it, i suppose just like that home will be forgotten. these photographs may be the last of it's final moments before destruction. after all, the desire for profit condemned its fate.