Like a lot of early home movies, my family’s 8mm film footage unfolds like a dream. It’s linear in the sense that we can track the passing of time. The seasons are constantly changing and people are aging, but the story is fragmented. It’s Christmas over and over again, unrecognizable faces appear, and the scenes come and go in a blur. Even those of us who are able to identify some of the who, what, where, when, or why are left stringing our own narratives together. I’ve watched the footage repeatedly over the past several years and each time I return to it I see something different. Sometimes it feels familiar, like déjà vu, and other times it’s as puzzling as a labyrinth. The act of watching it over and over again is like trying to remember a dream. When we dream we sew little bits and pieces of images together in order to make meaning out of them, but that doesn’t mean that they make sense and I suspect they’re not meant to. We are not meant to have all the answers, and forcing cohesion is like trying to sift fog. Instead, dreams are meant to remind us of nonsensical possibilities and the enchantment of not knowing. The more sense I try to make of it, the more illogical it becomes. The more I uncover the less I know—this is the heartbeat of my inquiry. Old Post Road blends my 8mm family footage with present-day Super 8mm film created in collaboration with Tori Lawrence, Ellie Goudie Averill, Brian Culbertson, and my grandparents Patsy and Grant Knapp. It unfolds, mirroring the way I remember my childhood—scattered and pieced together by seemingly unrelated events, people, places, dreams, and stories. More info >

The images in Human Erratics were taken on a digital, medium format Hasselblad in and around the deserted buildings and dumpsites of my hometown. I call these places wastescapes. These wastescape structures conjure images of glacial erratics. Like these large rock deposits, left behind by the movement of ice across long distances, wastescape structures mark the path of human movement. They are, in a sense, human erratics—deposits of human abandonment and remnants of neglect. The images in the film capture the life and death that coexist in these places. They shed light on the movements of our ancestors and reveal how we partner with the spaces that we create, inhabit, and neglect across the landscapes we call home. The film is a collaborative endeavor with artists Tori Lawrence, Ellie Goudie-Averill, and Emily Climer. More info >

A collaboration between filmmaker Tori Lawrence and dancers Emily Climer, Ellie Goudie-Averill, and Marie Lynn Haas. Together they create site specific works by developing improvisational scores for the dancers, musicians, and the camera. They created movement-driven footage on 16mm film in and around the landscapes of Rochester, Vermont in the the summer of 2018 and 2019. More info >