This is my grandparents’ house, where I spent much of my childhood. After the fire, I came back expecting to photograph what was gone. Instead, I found something strangely beautiful. The towels still hanging there. The place where my grandmother used to sit. My father fixing things, planting things, taking care of a house he doesn’t even live in. I call him often just to talk. His life hasn’t been easy, but he is always joking, always positive, and I always feel lighter after talking to him. I thought this project would be about loss. It became about his incredible appetite for life.

Pure Land.