My family and other animals

I photograph the world I know. I am an insider and these are the relationships and people I love. Sometimes they torment me and the way they live torments me too. But I have a camera, a shield of protection and self-defence, which can quickly pivot to a tool of access during the most intimate, private moments.

My brother, sister and I grew up on a dairy farm and watched our parents struggle to survive. As in many families, we had serious issues hanging over our heads all of the time. We lived under constant stress: money problems, fear of losing the farm, alcoholism and depression. There was always some underlying dread and sadness running in the background. We coped by laughing at each other, eating together, fighting and then talking things through and pretending everything was OK. I was always looking for what I guess could be described as the absurd and the unexpected, because as a kid, that was what I learned I could turn into gold. Humour and irony were commodities worth more than anything in my household. They gave a reprieve from the daunting heaviness.

I watched what went on around me very closely. That was how I developed my way of seeing. I love to point things out that I can’t believe are happening in front of me and share them. Look at this! Can you believe that? What were they thinking?

As a child, watching soap operas with Grammy Tucker on her summer-long visits was a guilty pleasure and welcome escape. We saw these characters’ familiar faces every day. Their problems seemed insurmountably worse than our own. That felt good to me. The constant cycle of heightened emotion in those soaps kept us perpetually on the edge of our seats. Only years later did it fully dawn on me that our home life had mirrored these over-the-top conflicts and drama. There was a lingering sense that life is only interesting when it’s garnished with constant, manufactured crises. I had got used to life on the edge of my seat.

My father was a workaholic with all the other issues that can go along with that: alcoholism, gambling and hoarding. He also had a severe thyroid condition, which when left unchecked, frankly, caused him to behave crazy. Despite these tough realities, he was overly generous and had a very distinct sense of humour. This was evident in the odd things he clipped out of the newspaper, things he collected, and did.

His problem-solving was inventive, though rarely aesthetically pleasing, much to my mother’s frustration. I was fascinated by how his mind worked, always trying to find the comedy in his chaos to get distance from the pain I knew he and I were both enduring.

My steadfast mother was the glue that held us together, managing the emotional weight of both my father and the rest of us – constantly having to pick up the pieces and start over. My instinct was always to search for the levity and meaning, when I could. In high school, I was shy and naive. When my father spread manure in fields that bordered classmates’ homes, I wanted to be invisible. Being the oldest, I thought I had to behave. I never dared to party or skip school. It wasn’t even an option. My siblings sure made up for it; they were wild. But I found my groove.

I took a high school darkroom class, at the same time that I took on the role as the designated driver for family and friends to parties. This gave me the licence to observe and take pictures of what other people, including my family were doing. And I didn’t have to drink! What a gift from God. Great teachers in college pressed me to be bold and forced me to complete projects that terrified me, such as street photography of complete strangers. Through this, I transformed myself from an isolated introvert to a kind of chameleon with the ability to photograph in places many wouldn’t normally be welcome in.

This collection of photographs presents the world I know – the complicated, mad world that includes my father, mother, brother, sister, friends, dogs, babies, extended families and the stuff of life. There are no pictures of the land, only the house and the landscape where they set themselves loose to live with their pleasures and troubles.

Holy Cow! is published on 18 May by Gost Books (£40)