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We take pictures because we want to remember.  We want to remember what someone looked like, our first day of school, our parents, and other significant moments, people, and events in our lives.  We want to preserve the moments we fear will inevitably grow dim.  We want to be remembered after we die, and photography serves us as a form of immortality.

Photographs provide us with proof that something once happened.  They serve as documents for moments that have passed, on both personal and historical levels.  But they also provide us with a false sense of security.  Time moves on, photographs fade, people die, and memory deteriorates.

My interest in the role photography plays in our memory came about in a box at an antique store.  There, I pieced together moments of a man's life from his childhood to his elder years.  Snapshots have become the residue, the evidence of our experiences.  How does something so valuable, so representative of a person's life, wind up as a commodity for sale in an antique store?  This work attempts to sustain the fleeting moments of families and lives, and explore the impact of family photographs and memory of the interior development of self.

Margo Jones Duvall