"Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space, in twilight land, in no man's land, two hurrying shapes met face to face and bade each other stand.
"And who are you?" cried one, a-gape, shuddering in the glimmering light.
"I know not," said the second shape, "I only died last night.”
What is the residual energy left over from connections, encounter and relationships when two people meet decades, centuries, millennia ago? Does it exist only in poems, literature, songs and memory? If so, is the kinship somehow still alive?
(From the "Asylum" series, a photographic journey into an abandoned Massachusetts insane asylum built in 1874.)