When a child stumps her toe, and the quick, ferocious pain of it leaps through her body and strikes her face (she's crying!), what can a parent do? Mine made silly faces, acted a fool, and made me laugh. But I was angry. I was hurting. I didn't want to laugh. Laughing made me angrier, even. Who could ever be happy while I was hurting? Like the pain, my mom was relentless. The laughter happened, and once it started, it was unstoppable. I'd stumped my toe, I was on fire with hurt, and dammit -- I was laughing. My mama was laughing with me. I was happy. I was happy and hurt.
This pain as vehement as its contradicting joy is what I aim to convey in my body of work. Southerners, after all, are the best at holding two opposing visions simultaneously, as if the differences themselves are the very reason for the passion fueling all their strange rage. While some of my work is not set in the South, an approach spans my filmmaking: My work holds two truths (or more!) at once while allowing people of complicated perspectives to speak for themselves.
I am a documentary film director and director of photography from Collins, Mississippi, and I split my time between home and the California Bay Area, where I studied at UC Berkeley's Graduate School of Journalism. I am the only female FS7 owner/operator in the sate of Mississippi.