A Journey Home  In 2000 my mother was diagnosed with cancer.    As I spent those last 6 weeks in western Pennsylvania with her,  I  found solace from the hospital by seeking the peaceful vistas of the Amish land so near to my childhood home.  Seven children were raised in our family farmhouse and as I emptied it searching for my memories, I sought the similarities to my childhood found in the way the Amish still  live today.  I gathered jelly jars, fabrics for rag rugs and useful things to share with the large Amish families.  A car accident head injury in the 80's had left a void in my memory and these "gifts" gave me entree into their community and a glimpse at my past fifty some years ago.

    I started making the images tentatively. I knocked on doors, bought their homemade butter, fresh eggs and garden vegetables.  I asked about their way of life and respectfully got permission to photograph their things and farms of which they are proud.   Although it is against the belief of this Amish sect to pose for pictures, by my returning with images over the last four years, a bond of trust has been formed.

    They understand the pictures are about searching for my childhood memories and a life gone by. They sweetly refer to me as the “english photographer”,  slowly, inviting me in.  Truly all photographs are self- portraits.

    The children fascinated me most as they stood by the cows waiting for the direct squirt of milk, climbed the grape arbor or rode the hay wagon, happily returning to their puppies in a box.   These moments struck a cord and once again I was reminded of the power of photography as a visual voice for stories left behind.    more>