Remember came out of three months of recovery after breaking my ankle in three places.

I couldn't move the way I used to. I couldn't work the way I used to. What I could do was sit, look out the window, and think about everything that had brought me to that moment – the places I'd been, the people who mattered, the life I'd built and the one I was trying to get back to.

I started photographing reflections in the glass – layering what I saw outside with what was behind me, what was present with what I was remembering. My dog stayed close. The images became composites of time, memory, and stillness. Black and white stripped away distraction and left only form, light, and shadow.

The reflections are fragmented, sometimes clear and sometimes distorted – the way memory actually works when you have nothing to do but sit with it.

This series isn't about recovery as triumph. It's about what happens when you're forced to stop and remember.d a deep connection to my past.