Carrie Levy #36005-054
I became interested in photography on my tenth birthday when my mother handed me a blue and gold Fisher-Price 110 mm camera with an oversized rewind button and black rubber grips. Without blinking, I turned to photograph family and friends, and I have always made photographs since.
In January 1996 my father was sent to prison. His absence was dramatic. His turmoil and struggle became our own, and in the end, his confinement imprisoned all of those who loved him. These images document the affect of my father's incarceration on my family. They explore what it is like to cope with the loss and return of a family member.
My father's incarceration was overwhelming and difficult to discuss, but I found a comforting form of expression in documenting my family. I wanted to use my experiences and my family's reactions to depict loss and togetherness. The photos show what we were missing, and all that we had. Looking at these images still remains difficult, but I now understand that my family was supporting my reactions. Their tolerance is touching to me because, despite their discomfort, they made it possible for me to cope with our struggle in my own way.