I began with blue.       What surfaced was memory.

As my family’s archive, I have always held the photographs — the hard drives, the fragments from before and after, the pieces no one else keeps. I preserve what time tries to thin.

Cyanotype, with its permanent blue, became the language for that instinct. Light exposes the image slowly. The past resurfaces in silhouette. What was once hidden becomes fixed.

In learning this process, I opened a box I wasn’t ready to open. Old images. Deeper ones. The kind that stain.

This work is a beginning — a blank canvas, a new medium — and a shift in perspective.

For the first time, I am not just keeping the archive. I am re-seeing it.