As I stood at the edge of the marsh, the air thick with humidity and the musky scent of pluff mud, I felt an overwhelming connection to the Low Country and its stories. Over the course of my fellowship, I found inspiration from both the land and the ancestral practices of the residents. Towards the start of my fellowship, I began this work by combing through photography archives and books — finding reference images that capture the essence of conjure, ritual, and communion with the earth.

 

The Gullah Geechee people, descendants of African enslaved peoples — who worked the rice fields and plantations of the Sea Islands, have long held a deep connection to the waters that surround them. Their way of life is inherently linked to the land and water—an ecology of memory. During my time here, I connected with spiritual practitioners, stewards of the land, and Black folks who have occupied this region for generations, many of whom have never left. Their stories are woven into the fabric of the Low Country, and through my photography, I aimed to capture the essence of their existence.

 

When it came time to create photographs, I focused on intimate moments, such as foot washing and hands grasping roots. I engaged with Civil War reenactors on Sol Legare Island further enriched my experience, allowing me to explore ancestral veneration and its significance in the narrative of southern spirituality.

 

One of the most powerful moments of my fellowship occurred when I staged scenes that required individuals to become ancestral conduits—inviting them to embody the spirits of their forebears in ways that resonated with their personal histories. It was a profound experience to witness people connect with their lineage, to see their faces light up with recognition as they stepped into roles that had been waiting for them across time.

 

This fellowship was not just an opportunity to create; it was a chance to bring to life an idea that had been simmering in my mind for over a year. The low country proverb, “The water bring we, the water wanna take we back…,” became a guiding principle for this work, encapsulating the dual relationship between the Gullah Geechee people and the waters that nourish and threaten their culture. This project seeks to explore the ancestral histories of the Low Country, the spiritual practices that permeate the soil. I would like to include an endless thank you to those who let me photograph them, Cheyenne Caldwell, my costumer, and to Joshua Parks, who worked as a consultant and producer on this project. You connected me with so many amazing people. Thank you for allowing me to photograph so many of your loved ones. Without you, this project would not have gone where it needed to go.