I moved to West Virginia in 2014. I came from the city - I was born in Miami, I lived in Brooklyn.  I moved home, outside of Paw Paw, into a house with no running water, and a history that was written in the evidence of the old oak boards lovingly raised around the painted plywood floors. I learned how to grow my food. I learned how to leave my doors unlocked. I learned how to heat a house with wood. I learned the silence of ice and snow.  I watched four winters pass, and five summers abundance. I listened to my elders, I became enriched by their stories, by their music, by their lives.  I watched trees that grew bigger, and heard the piercing crack of trees that fell.  I picked up bones along the way. I squished mushrooms between my fingers and went on walks and learned the trees.  I killed a deer and felt its warm insides, and fed myself generously.  I learned that neighbors are family.  I built my own darkroom at a neighbor's farm. I removed myself and I gained myself. I photographed everything.  These photographs are an ongoing project, the faces and places, my friends and loved ones, in their natural habitat of home.