Last Night.

    My father moved out of the home I thought our family would have forever. His father built this house and it was grandpa's tool bench filled with wonders that sparked the curious carpenter inside of me. So I raced through the backroads of Connecticut to spend the last few hours there.

    Once back in my own space, the project evolved into photographing tools I’ve inherited and realizing quickly I was never taught how to use many of them. I began to play and make images with the sharp objects and they progressively became instruments of expressed sexuality in place of utility. Understanding that the skin deep tool set I could sometimes rely on could not build me a house, I found myself devoted to learn about what I was acquiring and how to use the tools myself. Now, questions surfaced like whether my desire to keep the house was a territorial reaction and fear of losing a family history or if it was uncertainty in the safety of starting my own.

    Living with the seemingly abandoned objects from my grandparents positions me in my current time but I won’t forget the hollow yet nostalgic feeling while rummaging through the empty shelves to find nothing left but a crowbar and her portrait.

All images © Frances Jakubek, 2014