Tiger's Blood

Tiger’s Blood follows family, animals, stories and stains in the Arkansas Ozarks.

The year I was born, my family turned an old animal barn in the Arkansas Ozarks into a house. We call it The Barn. The photographs are made in and around it and the community close by.

Images return to animals, women and girls, who show up as participants in a strange domestic theater: posing, playing, enduring, decorating, transforming.

A torso marked with scars. Salmon-colored nails catching light from a phone screen. Funeral flowers beside brand-new pink sneakers.

Tiger’s Blood is a snow cone flavor: orangey-red, sweet, staining your mouth, your shirt, a white uniform in August.

The work is full of surfaces: chigger bites, fake fur, feathers, Christmas lights, denim, wood paneling, grass, sweat, flash. Stories and stains.