From 2009-2010 I photographed my grandparents’ home in Arlington, Virginia, with a Polaroid Colorpack camera. Once a pristine environment characterized by its museum like composition of stately furniture, antiques, knick-knacks, and glassware their home of thirty years has gone into a state of disorder as they have aged. Everything is still in its same place, but has gone uncared for, conflicting greatly with my former vision of my grandparents and their home. In order to recreate and fully experience this sense of cognitive dissonance, I dismantle and collapse the images I have taken there via a process called emulsion lifting.

Emulsion lifts are achieved by immersing Polaroid prints in hot water, which causes the emulsion to separate from the paper backing. Once the emulsion is released, the image is reduced to a fragile translucent membrane that is malleable and skin-like. I then transfer the emulsion to watercolor paper, layering and altering multiple lifts. During this process the emulsion breaks apart, warps, and wrinkles, obscuring the image. Once combined, the organic shapes created from the remains of the images appear to be both withering and thriving.