Stored
I didn’t know my grandfather on my mother’s side very well. By the time I started to remember him his health was failing after several strokes. Then he died when I was still pretty young. The only way I really learned about him was going through his things while visiting my grandmother. I’d scour every inch of his tool shop. I’d open his closets. I think it was the best way for me to connect with him.
I’ve tried to recreate those feelings with these set of photos. Using, as a surrogate, my grandparents-in-law and their modest farm stead in Iowa.