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My grandfather died this past May 4, 2008. My family and I were all with him as he passed away. As a visual person I had many of the images of him dying stuck in my head afterwards. None of these images were stronger or more upsetting to me then the way his body looked after all the life had finally left him. It shocked me to see this difference from one moment to the next. I cried and my mother put her hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s just a shell.”
Two months later I took a road trip from New York to Utah. I couldn’t fight the urge to stop along the way when I saw so many shells.
The most impactful shell was the coyote. I saw his lip moving as I photographed him, and assumed it was from a bug. But when I couldn’t stop thinking about him, I went back and photographed him again. Later when I looked back at these photos, I saw he still had a light reflection in his eye, and I realized he passed between the first and second time I photographed him. The difference is obvious in the photos and it helped me… It took a hurtful experience and made something beautiful.
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