In New England, fairs ramp up the completion of summer in the late weeks of August. When crickets chorus, morning and night, and golden hour hits around 7 o’clock.
This seasonal change, from summer towards fall, is intoxicating to me and has a special way of coaxing my attention to points of insignificance - everything is important.
Guided by my seasonal clock, fueled by the potency of nostalgia and custom, I go to the fair each year in search of the tiny threads linking us. Not through the audacity of experience but rather simply, through our shared passage of time.
These images are a subset from the larger project, August Gets Cold at Night - a body of work curated as a love letter to Summer.
A. Howard is a photographic artist living in Vermont, where her practice is consumed by the investigation of the sublimity in the prosaic – touching identity, existence, and setting.
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