Ebbing, flowing, spilling, falling.
(Howth, Ireland) I have been thinking about how time passes, how things fall apart, crumble, vanish and eventually are swept away. And about flight, where does the soul when it leaves its earthly life? “murmurations (of time)” takes its inspiration from its definition, a noun referring to the action of murmuring and also to a flock of starlings. My Mother’s, my Uncle’s and my Aunt’s passings, all within two years..all I have left are my memories and my photographs.
Invited artist: Tyler Kinney