
















Few things are as sad as an empty photo album. Where did all the people that used to live there go? Did they get thrown in the trash, or were they separated and sold at flea-markets—ending up in all different places? Thoughts like that came to me, when I found this old album for cabinet cards. But there was also a beauty in the cut-out spaces stacked on top of each other and the hand-written caption that only gave useless clues. I put a couple of unrelated photos in there, but they never became comfortable - they couldn’t find their peace in spaces that didn’t belong to them…