It would be difficult to pinpoint exactly from whence these images were born. There's several threads running through them: a nod to Russian folk art, an abiding interest in fashion, thoughts about oppression both political and otherwise. The title of this series is a nod to my paternal grandmother Sophie, who was a Russian immigrant and a milliner. She had a millinery shop in Cincinnati in the early 1940s and it is suspected that, in the looming shadow of it's impending failure, she set it ablaze for the insurance money.
As these images were being developed, I imagined large swaths of old-growth evergreens and frost on the ground. I envisioned secret meetings among the pines; whispered plans delivered in the darkest shadows of the deepest forests.
Secrets should be kept at all costs.
All creatures work together so that none shall perish alone. Fleet of foot and strong of heart; silent as a field mouse and with the ferocity of a bear. Our lips will remain sealed tight, but today the breaking of chains will be heard.
And some, many miles away, will feel it in their hearts.