To be from Lewiston, to be Franco from Lewiston, is to know that nobody is rooting for you.
You draw your strength from within, from your family, from your community - if you’re so lucky.
My grandmother says to me “I feel like I’ve already died,” as I help her into bed from her wheelchair, and
re-tape her leg, butchered in surgery.
Soon enough, she too will pass.
On the way out to my car, my mother stops me and reminds me: “life sucks, then…”
We both sigh, and I depart.
I set out to rediscover my ancestors, passed before my grandmother - to beg their favor.
Only Silence answers.
I am home.
A River, Passed is an exploration of Life, Death, and Regrowth and all the moments in between through the lens of landscape photography, inspired by grief. To make this body of work I wandered my hometown of Lewiston, Maine exploring the places most important to me, my family, and the broader Franco-American community, and made images of and in them - to find a deeper truth.
