In Passing

Since coming to Dayton three years ago, I have made the same trip back to Lancaster, my former hometown. For the first two years, I had only been the passenger. Instead of reading or engaging in conversation, I looked out the window, memorizing everything I could. Route 22 was always my favourite part of the trip. The countryside, the small towns, the southern architecture mixed in with the out of place cookie-cutter houses that seem to be popping up everywhere; this is why I loved the trip. Every time, a particular abandoned house would catch my eye. Each time I passed it, wanted to stop and explore it, photograph it. It wasn't until last fall that I was able to do so. I tried so hard to find the house I knew, but no luck. Once I finally did, I realized it had been burned down. It wasn't what I initially wanted, but I waited too long to come back. These images are of the remains of the house and surrounding areas. I like to imagine the house still as I remember passing it in the car thinking that it will always be there for me to photograph some other time.