On another evening, Allison was tending their firepit. By total accident, I incorrectly synced my camera flash, causing this half black frame.

While hanging out with my grandfather's neighbors in the midst of their floor repair, I took this photograph of Jayden lying on the floor, with his dog, Brownie, in front of him.

After visiting my aunt and uncle in Arcanum, my mother and I were caught in a sudden snow storm, causing us to pull over. We found ourselves at an Amish market and walked inside to get lunch. While checking out, I noticed a sleeping baby behind the cashier, which was later revealed to be a realistic baby doll.

One afternoon, I was walking back to my grandfather’s house after getting him a sandwich from Subway. Randomly, my grandfather's best friend, Bob, was driving by and offered me a very short ride back to my grandfather's house. His dog, named Dog, was in the front with us, and the car ride probably lasted under 30 seconds.

A boy lies in front of a fire in his backyard in Eaton, Ohio.

After attending church with my aunt Eva and her boys, I met Aiden and his parents, who were close friends with my aunt Eva. I mentioned my passion for photography, Aiden mentioned his passion for hunting, and a few nights later we hung out. He told me about his experiences hunting with his father, how it's something they do together, and how they ordinarily use crossbows, not rifles. At this moment, he was taking his sweatshirt off while showing me one of his hunting rifles and two bear taxidermies.

My cousin, Tia, works just 15 minutes away from my grandfather at a 911 call center in Richmond, Indiana. Tia, who happens to be a wildlife photographer, invited me over to photograph her workplace. Upon arriving, I noticed the many monitors needed to respond to calls and to dispatch first responders. While I was told to not photograph the actual information on the screens, I photographed the backs of them, as seen here of Rachel.

A family gathers for Labor Day fireworks in Covington, Kentucky.

Heather and Marvin smoke a cigarette in Covington, Kentucky.

Allison sifts through a bag in her garage in New Paris, Ohio.

Me and my sister Genevieve (pictured left) visited a dairy farm in Dayton, Ohio, along with our mother, Angela. While at the farm, Genevieve had made some friends in the chicken coop. At this moment, Genevieve's chicken flocked out of her arms, while her friend's chicken stayed happily held.

My grandfather, Charles, smokes in his chair in New Paris, Ohio.

Bob, my grandfather and I were walking into an American Legion in Eldorado, Ohio. Both Bob and my grandfather lost their wives some years ago and have come together through their mourning and daily habits of drinking at the American Legion. They rarely go to the American Legion in Eldorado, so this was a rare occurrence.

My grandfather, Charles, visits his parent's grave in Richmond, Indiana.

Marissa, Jayden's mom, blows a vape cloud in her living room in New Paris, Ohio.

Lisa stands by the stove in the kitchen in Richmond, Indiana

Uncle and Uno walk down the stairs in Richmond, Indiana.

Melissa and Bingo go for a ride in Camden, Ohio.

My grandfather, Charles, wanted to show my his collection of hunting rifles he used to use when he was younger. He always promised to take me hunting in the wintertime, but due to his cancer diagnosis this has never been able to happen.

My grandfather, Charles, smokes a cigarette in Bob's kitchen before leaving to the American Legion.

My sisters friends, Natalie and Gabe, jump rope in an empty pool in Eaton, Ohio.

My sister, Genevieve, stands on our front porch to wave me goodbye while it snows in Eaton, Ohio. Genevieve is adopted, born to parents from LA's San Fernando Valley, we've had her since she was two days old. Being of Mexican descent, moving to rural Ohio to be with my mother's white Irish Catholic family is often difficult for her. She regularly tells me of the isolation she feels from kids her age, and how she's made fun of for being adopted. On her 15th birthday, she purchased a DSLR with her birthday money, leading her to discover her own love for photography. Since then, she's been at every football, basketball and volleyball game, and stays busy running around her high school campus for yearbook. Two months ago, I accompanied her to the homecoming football game. The moment she stepped on the turf, I heard countless calls: "Gigi!" "Take my picture!" "Hey guys, Gigi's here!" Seeing her face light up, camera to eye, and understanding the ways in which our cameras can bring us purpose, friendships, status and joy, reminds me of my own relationship to the medium which has guided me ever since I was her age.

My mother, Angela, lights shabbat candles for the first time in two years after discovering my father’s affair in 2018. My mother, raised as a Catholic, converted to Judaism upon meeting my father. Scarred from her divorce, her relationship to Judaism challenged, she struggled to recite the shabbat prayer.

My grandfather, Charles, smokes a cigarette in his chair in New Paris, Ohio. Growing up visiting my grandfather, he has always sat in this chair and always smoked cigarettes. Upstairs, he has a closet full of photo albums he made before I was born, which contain images of our entire family growing up in this house, with the same carpeting, the same wallpaper and the same furniture. In many images, my grandfather is smoking in the same chair.

A framed photograph of my mother, Angela, and my deceased grandmother, Barbara, hangs in my grandmother's bedroom in New Paris, Ohio. Since her death, my grandfather has kept her room in perfect order; bed made, pictures hung, everything decorated as if she was still here. He's even written her love letters on the back of paper plates which he's propped up on both of her pillows.

Every time I leave my grandfather's house to return to LA, I never know which goodbye will be my last. As a child, I remember my grandparents standing on the porch, waving goodbye to my mother and I. Nowadays, my grandfather spends most of his day in bed and is unable to walk without assistance. As I am currently writing this at his dining room table in his kitchen, I wonder if this trip might end with our final goodbye.

Since my grandmother's death, my grandfather has visited her grave almost every single evening (this is before his cancer accelerated.) He will be buried in the same grave, next to my grandmother's mother, pictured just out of frame on the right.

After leaving my grandfather's house, a beautiful sunset illuminated the winter sky.