“Flame of Love” A series of 136 medium format film photographs  In remembrance of Altadena, California By participating in the auction of this series, you will be donating to those in Altadena impacted by the Eaton fire that occurred on January 7th & 8th, 2025. 75% of the proceeds will be donated. Thank you in advance for your support in helping to rebuild this community, and taking a stand against the plight of disaster capitalism, or worse.  Altadena, Pieces of you inside me and yet I questioned if you were mine to touch, so I waited. A few months after the fire, after you sifted your homes and entropy had begun, I visited Altadena for the first time. I drove there knowing of the injustice; knowing the fire to be the consequence of a system that resolved to pillage rather than protect, and I longed to aid the community like many artists. The site was apocalyptic, stricken and collapsed, and the violence of the fire still palpable in the ruins months later. For all the disfigurement, there was something oddly perfect about what remained and the way it laid rest. I would come to find it rich in symbolism. I couldn’t ignore life and death as it juxtaposed, and the entanglement of man-made and nature. Though maybe most of all, the relentless love and resilience of nature. Even on its worst days, the beauty of your town still shone, and I thought it barred photographing. I didn’t want this to go overlooked. Initially I would only go on rainy overcast days; they were the only skies heavy enough for the occasion, and there was something so beautiful about the alchemy of purification beginning. The air still smelled off, heavy metals and industrial residue hung in the atmosphere, but I grew up in the United States- I’ve been poisoned all my life. I worked alongside the Army Corps and many other contractors who were testing, cutting, marking, fixing, organizing, clearing, and removing the crime scene as it were. I prayed I wasn’t too late and tried to convince myself I was right on time. I began shooting long exposures to give the environment time to move and breathe and imprint upon the film. Even though I used a tripod, the series begins a bit shaky, erratic almost, reflecting my nerves as the National guard, police, and sheriffs circled, and I questioned my place. I thought the images were beautiful still, so I continued. I shot on varying degrees of expired film to craft a narrative, and oscillated between color and black and white. I accepted every aberration of the film as fate, and considered them a depiction of multiple planes of reality beyond those which we see. I was blessed to witness the grace of nature that Spring; Her vibrancy spoke volumes and inspired the induction of blue skies to this series. I considered this among many things as I drove around for countless hours, but nothing did I consider more than the glaring chimneys. I began to understand the fireplace as a black mirror. Before televisions and glossy devices, the fireplace was the focal point of the home. The soot on chimney walls created a dark, reflective surface where light flickered from the fire; a theater box, a window between worlds. People would sit around watching the flames and letting their imaginations play out against the blackened backdrop. I thought about how these elements sustain life, create sovereignty, and aid our evolution. In Appalachian folklore, the chimney is considered the gravestone of the home. Marking where lives were lived, children raised, and stories told. A silent monument to the lives long vanished that once warmed themselves by its fire. A chimney was thought to hold the Soul of the home. Finally I understood. When all is taken, the Soul remains. May your Spirit remain strong as your hearths, and may you have the courage to rebuild in accordance with your Soul.  Your Neighbor,  J