Statement
One night, my mother saw a man walk across the field and into the trees. Startled, my mother came inside and told us what she saw. She said, "he looked like he was from the 70s." We turned on the floodlights and went outside to see if the man was still around. We saw and heard nothing out of the ordinary in the tree lines. The man looked nothing like our few neighbors. I listened to my mother's words, but without seeing this event for myself, I couldn't help but wonder what was seen: the shadows playing tricks, a man walking across our land, or perhaps the paranormal.
In the dark, the mind habitually turns ordinary things into the unsightly: with the slightest flick of light, the coat rack with a hat at the top becomes a man, and two dots of white in an open field send a chill down the spine even if logic defies the sense of fear. Our eyes reveal what we presume to be fact, and the mind molds it into fiction.
Specter is a series of nightly explorations on the same plot of land where my mother saw the man. After night falls, I cross the ground with my camera and a light in hand as my guide. The light reveals the truth and tempts deception. Traversing the property, I am searching for the line between fact and lie in the night's obscurations. Maybe one night, I will see the man.