Coming from the disconnect of unrequited love, situated firmly in a place of limerence, I spent weeks pouring over memories, scrutinizing actions, recounting every detail, and trying to re-do and relive a moment that I will never experience again. How do I photograph my desire for connection and heal myself of this longing?
If a photograph is of what we desire, as well as the “death” of a moment in time, then the camera is my weapon, and I, the photographer, am the killer, and what we all truly desire is death.
Investigating my place in photography, I position myself, not only as the reaper, but as the giver of life to the dying medium. Using discarded mounted slides once belonging to strangers, I replace their old desires with my own, and treat the wounded slides with properties that are used both in art and in physical healing (ie: tape, glue, charcoal, etc…). I create an image with depths of focus, forcing me to probe the questions concerning the rebirth of a photograph, the cure for obsession, and the decimation of infatuation.
Decathexis is the withdrawal of one's feelings of attachment in anticipation of a future loss. I commit this passionate crime, knowing that my only regret and relief is that I never photographed him, and that I, alone, sit in this loneliness.