Tell Me Your Story

An Interactive Exhibit

Fri, September 25, 2015

A story was born the moment I snapped the shutter. Each photograph’s additional narrative will now come from you the viewer. Get curious.  Title them. Ask what has just happened or what will occur in the next moment. Your voice will provide a unique perspective and expand the possibilities for each image. 

Your act of storytelling will transform my work and complete the circle I began.  Thank you for sharing your wisdom and insight. 

Write a story and send it to

You can view the exhibit with full series description in the photography section of this website by clicking here:  Storytellers

Below are stories from viewers like you:

Story 2 ST Age 13:  I watch carefully, finger tips pressed against the wide, tall tree I stood behind. Praying that a stick didn't snap. Knowing, in this silent forrest: The......the, I don't even have words to describe this creature. The 'thing' would hear instantly, and soon my heart would stop. The thing that looks like a hybrid of an angel and satan, was twisting and squirming like a fish out of water. I look on the ground and almost have a heart attack. Severed, silver blood splattered heads cover the ground. They are angel devil look a-likes. I bend down to look at one. Then the screaming stops. I look up and the angel is gone. All is silent except for the warm breath on my neck.

Story 2 KS Age 47:  This is a time to shed my many facades.  To become who I truly am.  Why is it so difficult?

Story 2 SR Age 75:  I named this story "Lost"   You are lost in the woods, always acting/pretending to be someone else. Now you long to rip off every mask willing put on to be loved and accepted. Regret has become your constant companion. Now you think- I'd like to be known as I truly am instead of a version myself that is incomplete.

Story 2 GES Age 63:  My dreams lie, seemingly broken, strewn on the mossy forest floor.  I raise my head to the sky in screaming entreaty that they will be knit back into there whole of me; that I may blossom to my fullest self.

Story 2  SR  Age 75:  I named this story "Lost"  You are lost in the woods, always acting/pretending to be someone else.  Now you long to rip off every mask you willing put on to be loved and accepted.  Regret has become your constant companion.  Now you think - I'd like to be know, as I truly am instead of a version of myself that is incomplete. 

Story 2  KEC Age 21:  Once upon a time, there was a woman who could't function without being covered.  She lived in the woods to conceal her humanity, for the world she came from tried to pull apart her identity.  In the woods, covered by the shadows of the trees, she is safe from the menacing predator of her past.  She is hidden in plain sight.  She is protected, but she is free from those who judged her.  Maybe one day, she'll be able to drop her mask, her  doppleganger, and let go of the past that is slowly slipping off her skin.  

Story 4 HH 45:  Hush for God's sake.  We've gone over this a thousand times before.  If you want to stay safe - stay quiet.  One day you will realize that all this is worth it.  You've left your house in the middle of the night too many times to not know the drill.  Leave it all if you want anything at all.  The adjustments, the disturbed routines, are the new normal. Choas is the one routine.  Settle in, nestle down, detach and flee. 

Story 4 __ __:  "The Smothering Mother"

story 4 __ __:  "Be careful in front of Grandma"  The grandparents have just arrived for the day from Florida.

Story 4 __ __:  "Don't tell them cause it hurts"

Story 4 __ __:  I told them not to betray the secret.  No matter what, we must keep our family together.  Don't talk about the beatings the torture, the drugs.  Pretend all is ok - or else

Story 4 TC Age 66:  There have been some horribly unthinkable and unspeakable things going on.  My mother does not want the children to speak of these things (family secrets) so she hushes the children.  But there are always side effects.  It will not go away by not speaking of it.  How can we overcome generation "curses" without exposure and correction.  But what will the "neighbors think?"  How can we deal with this stuff and get beyond it if we can't speak of it.

Story 7  BB Age 11:  "Who is that?" I say as I look down at someone who looks exactly like.  I put my left hand in the air an wave it all around.  This person follows the same things as I do, exactly.  "Hello?"  I curiously ask as I look closely at this duplicate of me.  I wonder if someone is just playing a trick  on me, so I close my eyes and pretend this never happened.  When I open them agin this person isn't there anymore.  All of a sudden something grabs my legs.  I scream.

Story 7  __ __:  I am cleansing my soul in the warm summer waters of the lake at camp.  My hands are up to slow down my husky as she swims toward me such unbridled enthusiasm .  We will frolic together and my soul will feel the love of a child.

Story 7 __ __:    Webbed would be better.

Story 7 __ __:  When I emerged, I realized that I had successfully realized my ambition!  I could swim underwater.

Story 10 JD Age 73:  We all carry light, yes every single human being. This also includes the people we don't like. When we really know this and let our actions flow from that knowledge we will all be free.

Story 10 __ __:  A moment in the play of illumination.

Story 10  JM  Age 25:  "Gothic Affirmation"  Let's start at the end, or at at the least very near to it.  "So this is the fruit of avarice."  She dredged glee up from a forgotten part of her and reinforced her face with it.  How may dead languages?  How many tests?  How many hours lost in darkened rooms after everyone else had gone home defeated?  How many people crumpled and discarded?  She could have thought these things.  Instead she blinded herself with her prize, clutching it against her body in triumph.  There was nobody left to hold. 

Story 12 __ __:  Brother and sister having  a spoof at their summer pond.

Story 13 YTG Age 32:  Title "Peek-a-boo"  What I love about this image is that the person looks right at you.  It also looks as if the child is taking picture of the viewer with a pretend camera.  It reminds me of how seldom  we actually look one another i the eye in  our daily life.  Now we are all looking at screens, phones and television.  It is a ver personal thing to look at someone directly.  It says I see you.  Think about the last time yo looked directly into the eyes of your wife, husband, child, bank teller, postman and grocery clerk.  Try it .  It is amazing. 

 Story 13 __ __ :  What does it mean to live without an identity?  Is it to shed a burden or to gain another? 

Story 13 __ __:  He peeked.  He was told over and over again, warned not to look.  But now he bore witness to a terrible thing.  A thing that would haunt him.  Hearing it was bad enough- but peeking with even just one eye left it's indelible mark, and he was forced to keep the mask on for the rest of his life. 

  Story 14 __ __:  If I remove my mask will the green forest return?  I think so.......

Story 14 HJ Age 21:  A young boy struggling with identity.  The worked expects us to know who we are from such and early age.  This in reality, identity is fluid.  The you you are today is valid and should be celebrated.

Story 14 __ __:  A small boy about to grow up....too fast maybe?

Story 18 ME Age 38:  Hey Girl!  Stop being unhappy with yourself.  You are perfect just as you are.  Stop wishing you looked like someone else.  Stop hating your body, your face, your personality, and your quirks.   Love them.  Without these things you would not be who you are.  Why would you want to be anyone else?  Love your imperfections.  You are amazing.  

 Story 21-24 ME Age 38:  Woman, if you are reading this your have survived your life to to this point.  Heartbreak, losses, betrayals, trauma, and here you are.  You are a fierce warrior woman.  

 Stories 21-24 ST Age 65:  "The Struggle"  I think this story is about choice. So often we struggle. We tie ourselves up in knots with thoughts about the past or future. The Buddhist's call this suffering. At any time we can choose to let go and be in the present moment. This is called peace. I feel the woman in Story 24 is moving in that direction.

Story 21 ST Age 13:  I didn't mean to be enticed by the sailor. But then again, neither did the girls who are with me. But now we are trapped in a cold, dark room with a rope around our necks and hips. Each creak and tug daring us to pull again. Despite the choke marks and fractured wrists we struggle. He stands in the shadows mocking us, laughing at us. I watch these girls struggles, laughing at their stupidity. Only if they had the smooth, the calm, they would realize the rope was attached by a bow tie.

Story 23  __ __:  Why do my sisters always fight?  Whose love and affection are they seeking steal away from the other?  Please don't fight Margaret and Jude.

Story 28  __ __:  Father, I look for myself in your portrait,  What part of your face is reflected in mine?  Your eyes?  Your mouth?  If I can discover what is in both of our faces, maybe I will come to understand what of you is in my heart and soul.

Story 28 BB Age 11:  What did he look like as a boy? What was his middle name? What was his favorite color? Questions fill my mind about topics that I never knew about my father. He died in a car accident. At least that's what my mother tells me every time I ask her. But is that really how he died. He could have died from an illness, did he drown, did he get shot? The possibilities are endless. I guess I will never know because obviously, my mom will never tell me. Is she hiding something?

Story 28 JT Age 58:  It was a cold dark afternoon when I received the news that I had terminal cancer and that my days on the earth we to be numbered in months instead of years.  I had just retired after 32 years as a school Principal at our local high school.  One of roomy many gifts I received was a portrait that one of my teachers drew for me.  Alone now, I gazed into the picture of the old man in the frame.  It looked like me I guess.  But that isn't how I felt.  I felt like the young boy I once was.  How did the time by so fast.  Where were my parents when I needed them - now more than ever.  How did the time of by so fast?
Story 30  __ __:  We are all faceless in death..... Gives me a warm fuzzy feeling......Thank you
Story 30  __ __:  Mother yelling at me for worshipping the UnderWorld incorrectly.  The cross was apparently supposed to go the other way, oops.
Story 30  YTG Age 32:  Title:  "Never Give Up"  "When your get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a  minute longer, never give up, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn."  Harriet Beecher Stowe.

Story 30  __ __:  Explaining the finality of death, beyond which we all have no faces.

Story 33 YTG Age 32:  Title:  "Morning Monster"   This is the way my husband looks before his cup of coffee.
Story 33 __ __:  In the primordial pool of matter, I emerge.  What do I become?  Do I stand?  Do I see?  Or, do I return to the ooze to emerge again after I am more formed and directed? 

Story 33 BLS Age 70:  Frogman from the deep has come to the surface to reflect on what will be his next move/or jump. 


Viewer comment:  When we don't see the face, we loose so much of the story that life has imprinted and contributed to the identity of the person. Even the eyes that are the windows to the soul, are partially hidden.  Can we really know another?

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