Heading home on the GoBus from Ohio University to Loveland for spring break on March 6, 2020. We didn't realize it would be the last time traveling for a while.

 

We Still

Back in March, when the coronavirus pandemic and its effects first started to hit the United States, the once distant virus that felt alive only through global news and social media, made its presence known in my life. As my daily life continued to change, I have continued to document what I see and create images that illustrate the way I feel. 

In this series are documentary photographs of my experience, journal entries I wrote over time that share my thoughts, along with double exposures of the people who have stayed closest to me with scenes of our lives that bring us together.

Although the pandemic has been a source of fear and change for most — including my family and I, this project displays the love, beauty, and hope we are still grateful to share. 


My parents and I go for a walk in Grailville, a nature preserve up the street from our house, in March. As I've been spending less and less time around my friends, and more time inside, getting out under the sun feels refreshing. 

Back home to stay, in Loveland, Ohio. While working through online classes since COVID-19 caused social distancing and a stay-at-home order, my family and I have tried to stay positive about the blessings that we still have.

My mom returns from Kroger with her weekly trunk full of groceries. I usually like to go with her to help, but since social distancing has started only one family member is allowed into the store at a time, even though now she returns home with more groceries than ever.

Laine, my girlfriend, is one of the only non-family members that I have continued to spend time with since the pandemic began. When my mom isn't using her car, I like to borrow it and pick Laine up to get out of the house.

My friends and family enjoy the warm spring night after a backyard picnic to celebrate the end of my freshman year of college on Saturday, May 2. Laine, on the far left, and Macy, my brother Sam’s fiance, on the far right, are the only people who have regularly been coming to our house since COVID-19. 

The morning light shines through my bedroom window and onto my bed as I work through fall classes in September. Since March, my childhood bedroom has returned to my life as I spend more and more time alone, working only virtually with others. Above my head is my bedroom wall, which I view as a frame for my thoughts, creations, and inspirations to hang freely.

Barbara Timmerman, my grandmother, smiles as my dad and I talk to her over the phone during a visit to her assisted living home in Milford, Ohio, in October. My grandmother has trouble with her memory and hasn’t been able to leave the assisted living home since March when the coronavirus pandemic began, and since cases are on the rise, we can only see her through the window when we visit.

The sun rises over Grailville, an old farm up the street from my house on a morning in September. My brother, Sam, wakes up early for work everyday and woke me up to tell me how pretty the morning sky was. Though many things have changed, the sun still rises each day.

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