My parents bought a house in a new development when I was two years old. I grew up with a forest backing our line of neighbours with a paved laneway separating us from the trees. I became enamoured with a young cottonwood tree that sat between an ocean of evergreens. The cotton tree grew with me, lettings its seeds spread every Spring only to shrivel again in the Winter. Windstorms were frequent, and with my childhood bedroom window facing the forest, I would watch the cotton tree sway towards me. It moved as if it was dancing until the dancing became its downfall. An excavator had been making it dance, and shortly after the forest had fallen, I watched the woman whose new window faced mine dance as the cotton tree did.
8 x 10 photographs. Taken on 35 mm film, scanned, digitally collaged, printed on matte paper.