Memory Place

Memory is such a fickle thing. I find myself often wondering which memories of this place are real, and which have been warped by time, trauma, and a willingness to forget. Memory Place is an exploratory project of revisiting what I often refer to as my second childhood home. It is an active remembrance of both the good and the bad of this place, and now it lies on an empty lot for sale, with no one to tell the stories of how it was- or rather how it got to where it is now. Pictured in these images you see a crumbling, weed filled, unloved property; but it wasn’t always like this. Over a decade ago it was a sun-filled, warm place with laughter bouncing off vaulted ceilings and freshly mown grass. It was a bustling place filled with my very best friends (with both two legs and four). It was a place I can recall as housing 90% of my childhood memories. Tractor rides past cherry blossom trees, sore muscles after a hard worked day, and quite literally singing in the rain filled the first five years of my time here. In early 2017 my experience turned more sinister. Starting with a life-threatening injury in March which caused me to never ride again due to both physical and mental roadblocks. We exchanged carefree laughter over a game of capture the flag for phone tag with the OSPCA. Singing in the rain became carting wheelbarrows of water from the river to the paddocks because the hoses hadn’t been run in three days. Eagerness to visit the horses turned into a pit in your stomach wondering which one would be gone that day. I could write an essay for each criminal act of negligence that led to another animal dead and buried in the field. Years of abuse and negligence forced the barn to mercifully close its doors in July of 2019, at which time I was given an ultimatum- buy my childhood horse Prin, or have her be auctioned at the meat market. It was with a heavy heart and empty pockets that I left my second home behind, with Prin in tow. Until September of 2023, I had not stepped foot on the now vacant property despite my constant curiosity. With a merging of archival and new images, I attempt to form a bridge between the place that stands now, and the place I remember from years ago. Each archival image is perfectly lined up with the location it was originally taken, and ranges in dates from January 2012 to July 2016. This came with its own struggles as I seldom come across a pleasant memory from the last few years spent at Georgetown Equestrian Centre. Shooting this series was a very conflicting emotional experience for me, now the bad memories vastly outnumber the good, and I’ve lost the numbers for my very best friends. Maybe it’s something that happens with age, we grow up and grow apart and our memories of time and place become withered and rotten, it's a fine line between reminiscing about all of the joy and love I experienced here, and the guilt I feel about being a passive witness throughout all of the bad.