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Here You Were HeldI have history in two homes, one on each side of the Atlantic, and I travel between them. My family immigrated to the United States from Northern Ireland, and I returned alone for my education. Being between can be disorientating, a feeling of grounding my roots eludes me in the back and forth. These images serve as pinpoints - spots on a map that tie my parent's memories of a place with my own, yet also anchor me separately still. The pause was long enough to recognize the water as both bridge and barrier, a method of conveyance and an obstacle to negotiate. Even if only for a split second I was present, connected and calmed. Here you were held.
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