For the past three years I’ve been searching through thrift stores and antique malls, looking for left-behind images of people and their homes. I've found hundreds of lonely, yellowed, black and white photos. Their surfaces are cracked and torn, their origins lost. They hold a vague ache of unknowable history. Placed within the structure of my Tessellation sculptures, they take on new context and narratives, transforming into new communities, creating new worlds of abstract space and untold stories.