The woods surrounding my childhood home conceal over thirty cars, a bus, a bread truck, and many sailboats. Inside, three stories are packed floor to ceiling.
My dad’s hoarding disorder began after my parents’ divorce when I was eleven, and the junkyard grew with me. Over the past decade, my series “Bad Dogs” has shifted from documenting the property to collaborating with my dad. The land holds a geological timeline of my family history and I search for artifacts of identity in the strata. Together, my dad and I construct and dismantle ephemeral sculptures from the debris, transforming obstacles into a shared artistic language. His enthusiasm to create art together is an act of love that I hold protectively. Each piece reflects an intuitive process of balance and form, and creates a non-judgmental space for us to work together. The duration of this project contrasts the transience of human time, marked by the deepening lines on our faces, with the enduring presence of the materials on the property. This practice has become a cathartic tool for reciprocity, celebrating our evolving relationship and the power of art to repair and heal. I share our story to honor my dad, our journey, and what we continue to build.