When Flies Sit Still

When Flies Sit Still observes America’s quiet tension from 2020 to now. Beyond politics, it reveals what it feels like to live in the in-between, turning away from the chaos & crisis towards the stillness that shapes survival.

When Flies Sit Still is an exploration of the emotional landscape of America in recent years. Born out of the aftermath of Covid and the Trump administration, the project captures a kind of quiet tension that exists in the collective peripheral of our lives. While this emotional state isn’t uniquely American, it feels newly intimate, like we’re experiencing it from the inside for the first time.

This work doesn’t aim to document politics or global events directly. It’s not about Trump or Covid. It’s about the people living through the fallout, what it feels like to exist in the in-between, and what it looks like to turn the lens away from catastrophe and toward the stillness that surrounds it.

This work sits at the intersection of beauty and resistance; finding connection in the refusal to embrace fatalism, while acknowledging the heaviness of now. I’m not aiming to offer resolution, but rather to linger in the uncertainty and search for meaning in the stillness.

The current title for this body of work is derived from a Pennsylvania Dutch phrase used to signal to other PA Dutch speakers that you understand the language- a language that is now dying. The phrase, "Kannst du Micka fange?" and its response, "Ja, wann sie hucke bliebe," roughly translates to: “Do you swat flies?”, “Yes, if they sit still.” I chose this as the title both because of my Pennsylvanian roots and for the phrase’s metaphorical resonance. In this context, Americans are the flies- waiting for the swat. The tension in that suspended moment reflects the anxiety I am working to document in this project. We will either get hit or dodge the swatter & fly away.

With the Phmuseum Women Photograph Grant, I will finalize this body of work. Time, trust, and patience are essential to this process, especially in making photographs that are this personal. But lately, the rising cost of living has limited my ability to dedicate the time this project deserves. I have had to completely halt all photographic endeavors due to lack of funds and the inability to take time off work. I'm a freelance photographer barely scraping by and currently looking to pick up a second or third side job because I am simply too broke. However, doing so will ultimately fill my schedule and take away more time for shooting.

Everyone is being hit hard in this economy, which is why it is important to document its effects now. I fear that due to my own financial situation, I will miss the opportunity to capture people in this moment and tell the story of our current struggles as they are unfolding. I’d like to revisit people I’ve met and photograph them more intimately, as well as connect with others I haven’t yet reached: trans friends in rural communities, young mothers navigating instability, immigrants, young adults, and others existing in the chaos of now. More specifically, I would like to allocate the resources from this award to several weeks of traveling America and shooting as much as possible for the final stages of this project. 

My goal is to reach others who resonate with this dual feeling of fatalism and hope. This limbo we’re living in is painful, and the unknown future only adds to that weight. I want this work to create a space for reflection. If I can show the resilient spirit of my subjects and myself, maybe others will feel that within themselves, too.