My grandmother's photography aroused my sensory knowledge of a forgotten childhood landscape. From a young age she filled my head with tales of far off countries, having travelled the world from the young age of sixteen. She climbed Swiss Alps, trekked through glacial passes and indulged herself in remote tearooms surrounded by towering mountains. The stories are romantic, epic, and are now quite poignant in their penultimate nature. Our strong family bond stems from the sharing of photographs, so much so that it has become to feel like a heritage specific to us alone. The treasured photographs have become sublime illustrations giving evidence to the tales, and depict a journey that I cannot physically experience myself.
Due to this barrier my viewing of her photography is fragmented, I have a need to connect, empathise and visualise every detail, yet it is unattainable. My imagination seemed to remedy this, delving back into my childhood, almost selecting a memory equally filled with emotions of adventure and romance. Instead of her mountains I perceived the forest, my forest, a place I travelled to as a young girl to explore. I associated the emotion in the imagery and stories with a landscape that, for me, evoked a similar response.
Constructing this internal process created a landscape almost reminiscent of the tales we pass down through generations. The images are a compound of memories, merging an internal experience with an external landscape. They are capturing a moment when my imagination 'filled the gap' and formed an almost surreal world that in essence is real yet imagined. Each image creates its own aesthetic from the layers, playing with depth and background, either pulling the viewer in, or leaving the eye casting across the surface. Collectively forming a montage of intimate scenes that are serene, remote and each suggestive of its own story.