Grandma's House
My maternal grandparents have always been two of my favorite people in the world. Visiting their house on the West side of Michigan, 5 minutes from Lake Michigan, was always a treat. We have a small family so we would drive across the state for holidays and summer breaks, and just to spend time with them. So many memories and so much love at grandma's house. When I moved to Texas, I knew there would come a time when I might not be able to visit my grandparents or their house again. I was able to visit them multiple times, both grandma and gramps living well into their nineties. Gramp's shaving tools and mouth wash, his workout wear piled high on the shelf behind the washer, grandma's many piles of denim, shoes, and jewelry, her knick knack collections and their respective seats where we could see them as we drove up the driveway from what seemed like a very long journey, beginning with the giant tire outside of Detroit, In documenting spaces and objects in their home, I can hear, smell, and see memories and experiences of being there.
