My hometown and I have shared a love/hate relationship for years. Upon visiting it again four years ago I saw the way it had changed into a place very different from what I had known it as. I said at the time that if I never went back there I wouldn't mind at all, as it was only my parents, who live there, that were worth seeing in such a place.
Last summer my father had a series of strokes that irrevocably changed his life. As I drive down to see him in the hospital I had ample time to revisit my thoughts on my hometown — Crescent City, Ca., the only place in the contiguous United States to have been hit by multiple tsunami's. It occurred to me that to have strong feelings about something there must be feelings there to be felt. My hometown has broken my heart for what it has become, but only because I care for it so. As it is true that only love can break your heart.
These photos are the most recent in a series I have been making of my hometown, this time in conjunction with the 50th anniversary of the first tsunami. These photos are about Crescent City, about time and change, about my father, about me.