afterimage noun

1: a usually visual sensation occurring after stimulation by its external cause has ceased

2: a lasting memory or mental image of something

In June, Slavic Village is lush. Daylilies sprout along roadsides. Mulberries ripen on branches. This work is an exploration of ephemerality in a world with a changing climate. The idea for this project began taking root in 2022, when I started making lumens: images created through an alternative photographic process whereby an object is placed atop light-sensitive darkroom paper and then exposed to the sun. 

The lumens in this series were crafted using botanical clippings sourced in Slavic Village. I snipped plants from cracks in the asphalt and gathered generous donations from a number of local gardeners. 

Primarily, I use black & white darkroom paper, given to me by friends and colleagues, sometimes found in the belongings of family members who have since passed.  It’s no problem if the paper is expired or “fogged”—accidentally exposed—because the process will still work, which allows me to repurpose materials that might otherwise be discarded. 

Despite the use of mostly monochrome paper, unexpectedly vibrant colors emerge. (There are three exceptions in this series made with RA-4 color paper, all blue-hued prints tinged with turquoise.) In their colorful state, however, the lumens are temporary. The act of making the prints permanent by immersing them into photo fixer causes the shades to turn brown. I keep the originals in light-tight containers and understand that each time I take them out, they will be altered.

The majority of the lumens on view are vivid and unchanging reproductions from digital scans. Interspersed with these reproductions are original, unfixed lumens that will continually shift and fade throughout the weekend.