Growing up in my family was difficult, so I have always tried to get distance from it. But it’s as if my family members, and our relationships, hold some secret, or key. I find myself continually returning in order to resolve yet another question.
 
A family is a shifting conglomeration of narratives, just as each individual is constantly evolving. In the midst of a long estrangement from my father, I bonded with my younger cousin Adam, who I could not help but feel was like my double. Looking at him brought me back into my childhood; he was an entry point into storylines that I needed to reconfigure through my own lens.
 
Much has changed since I started this project in 2013, but the same theme drives me: the mutability and inscrutability of each one of us. The more I press down, looking for truths, the more illusory everything becomes. This experience has a liquid quality; relationships come and go like waves.
 
I need photography not only for what it shows us, but also for what it doesn’t show—for what it fails to do, for what it keeps hidden. This is what I seek to capture within the frame: not the answers so much as the fact that there are none. I find strange comfort in this. It confirms my experience and pushes me to confront each subjective moment for what it is—boundless, indeterminate, quietly electric.