COURTNEY RAY

Forgiving Home is an exhibition about my experience forgiving the place I grew up and the mental health implications that came along with a tumultuous adolescence. Each photograph takes place in Ringgold, a small town in North Georgia consisting of around 4,000 people, in which patrons will be able to understand how our experiences in our adolescence effects us as adults.

After surviving an F4 tornado when I was 15, I developed PTSD and major depressive disorder.  I often describe my illness as a volcano.  It could be dormant now, but erupt the next day.  The eruption could be a little bubble, or destroy the whole town.

Often people ask me if I'm better and my answer has always been "I'm Trying".

The south is a place that is different than anywhere else.  It’s opinionated and grounded in its roots.  It’s covered in small towns of heavy histories and people who have been here their whole lives.  One thing that everyone sees, whether you are driving through a small town to avoid traffic or driving right on the interstate, is signs.  The south’s signs, I feel, are different than any other road side sign or billboard in the United States.  Small businesses with signs that have been hand painted and extremely conservative political text is seen throughout the small towns of the south.  I documented these signs and discovered the emotions many of them evoke from others.  Political signs usually tend to evoke anger or judgment while local businesses tend to evoke happiness or wonder and blank signs with abandoned buildings tend to make one feel sad or lonely.  It’s interesting how just a road sign can affect the way we feel.  In the south, I feel these signs especially impact ones feelings of a place because of the south’s stereotypically opinionated nature. 

I followed her into the forest.  I stayed far enough behind so she wouldn’t see me.  Her white dress glowed in the sunset.  The leaves crinkled beneath my feet but every step she took was silent.  As the sun continued to set I noticed her dress was becoming dirty.  Her seams were torn and I could hear her crying.  I tried to help her but she was just out of reach. The sun left as quick as the moon appeared.  In the moonlight, she began to fade.  Through the winding trees I could see her start to run and her cries got louder.  I ran to catch up with her but as I reached the end of the trees, she was gone. 

I looked down to see a white tattered dress hanging off my body.    

I photographed these children in a religious space; a church nursery.  These kids range from age two to four.  During their lessons, they learned the different stories of Jesus Christ.  Some of the lessons are pretty harsh and deal with characters such as Satan, but to these kids, he is just another bad guy like their favorite villain on a TV show.  Through these photographs, I hope adults can see how important imagination and community is as well as how much of an impact we as adults make on children.

Replacing blood with something as harmless as glitter I've found really makes the viewer extremely uncomfortable.  It turns the glitter into something grotesque, when it's still just glitter.

I went into an antique shop and found so many beautiful black and white negatives.  It was like I had struck gold.  These people inside these photographs were once real people and these photographs I'm sure once had meaning. Now they have been thrown away, sold to a shop who has no connection to them.  I scanned these negatives, cleaned them up as best I could, and hand colored them using photoshop.  I felt like I was creating new meaning for their existence and in turn created my own connection with the people inside the picture.  I have no idea who any of these people are, but I hope these photographs bring you as the viewer some happiness and memories and maybe make you look into your old box of photographs and reminisce.  

Photographs that don't quite have a place yet