Last week, on a drive around the backroads of Monroe’s Tualco Valley, I came across this concrete staircase, standing alone, fixed in time. There were no clues as to the original structure that once necessitated these steps for access. Fascinated by this stairway that led to nowhere, I pulled off the road to photograph it.
For many years now I have been interested in liminal places and spaces. Liminal relates to a boundary or threshold, an interzone that is neither here nor there but in-between; a passage that connotes transition and transformation. Liminal places are embodied in promenades, paths, alleys, aisles, bridges, stairs, doorways, windows, and other places of openings and passage.
What I love about this particular body of work is that I am not out searching for images to become a set of photographs. I am collecting images as they present themselves. The work grows organically in the way a collection of poems accumulates, building, slowly, over time, and gathering its strength from the diversity as well as the interaction among them.