"Art should be disturbing-it should make us both think and feel. It should infect the unconscious as well as the conscious mind; it should never allow complacency nor condone the status quo."
Clarence John Laughlin

Photographs construct our lives and our identity while authenticating a moment of arrested time. As our memories fade in and out, it is only the photographs that confirm time's existence for us. Yet it is the visual ambiguity I seek in these images that offers each of us a way to reference memory and interpret our own narrative.

Cracow, 1978
I was standing in a square opposite one of the few remaining synagogues in Cracow listening to comments on post-war Poland. Cameras slung on both shoulders, I was snapping pictures of passers-by, old buildings, and the fountain in the old city. A face in the window caught my attention; a young child, her face pressed ever so gently against the glass, was staring down at me from a second story apartment. I smiled and lifted my hand to wave as I simultaneously raised my camera.

Detroit, 2000
These many years later I am still haunted by that image. Why is it that some memories linger in our minds only to resurface through the creative process? The use of the face in the window constructs a presence, as observer and participant, as well as an absence of those memories that are gone or lost to us forever.