Transitioning

17 Mar Transitioning

My father passed away in January 1994 and my young son, my cousin and I ventured up to our old cabin at Lake Cavanaugh, in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains, north of Seattle to scatter his ashes. While we were warming up in the cabin afterwards, I found this photograph in an old album, taken the year I was born. My father was goofing around at the end of a makeshift “dock”. I borrowed the photo and transformed it into this tribute to him: moving from one world to another.