the continuum of something that no longer exists

50” x 240” C-Print
I make sculptural images and installations that explore the ability of the photographic document to reconstitute the histories of images and material into value systems of care and empathy. The imagery is a record of my geography, my neighbors, and my family. They are either housed in or made into objects that ask viewers to contemplate their physical orientation and reward curiosity and patience. And above all, they highlight practices of connection and respect to locales and communities.

“the continuum of something that no longer exists” was conceived after a disappointing loss in 2018. I was moving back in with my mother, and during the process, we discovered an old roll of film that must have survived two decades of moving around Southern California and a cross-country move. This roll of film likely belonged to my long-deceased father, who took great pleasure in photographing any and all family affairs.

My mother insisted on getting it developed instead of allowing me to do so, despite this being  part of my practice. She took the negatives to our local Wal-Mart, where we received an interesting array of decayed, discolored, and abstract low-resolution images on a CD. When I asked where the negatives were, we learned about Wal-Mart’s process: they send the film to a third party who destroys the negatives once they are developed and scanned.

Thus, these abstract 400kb thumbnail-sized files were all that was left of this decayed vestige of my dad. In a desperate move to try to salvage something, I recreated the negative using an LVT scan, curious to see how pixels were reconstituted as emulsion. What sort of unexpected details could emerge from these now unfamiliar memories? How could one embody 20 years of loss, or maybe 20 years of a slow reaction, 20 years of a changing state?

I decided to make a 20-foot c-print of this image. Using multiple exposures, I extended the deterioration marks to contemplate this continuum of what is, what was, what we’d like to hold on to, and what we learn in that process.

It is not one moment, but years of moments held at once—folded, curved, hidden, forgotten, different altogether.

Each iteration, each memory takes up space and requires one to reorient themselves to the piece. As I’ve only made prints of one image,  I hope to continue this exploration of large-scale prints as a way to contemplate how we meet time and the process of change. Where does it ask us to look? How does it ask us to stand? Are we willing to find the gifts an unexpected loss can offer only after the distance time affords?


Noteable Awards + Recognition:
  • 2025 Mention: Architectural Digest “How 15 Black Collectors Are Changing the Art World, Starting at Home”
  • 2024 Mention: Cultured Magazine “Meet Khalil Kinsey”
  • 2024 Acquired by the Kinsey Collection
  • 2024 9 Lives, Bellyman Gallery curated by Salim Green & John Bogaard, Los Angeles, CA