When I was eight, our family moved to Iowa and, then, the following year to Kansas where my father taught french history at the University in Lawrence. To a young kid from the East Coast, the Midwest seemed foreign and limitless, full of strange flat horizons and fields that stretched for miles.

When I went back there to photograph, I was reminded of that same feeling of being an outsider in a new town  - of trying to find my place in a world I was just starting to grasp. I would peer into backyards and houses for any clues to understand how I got from there to here and what I may have left behind. /KANSAS