Home is the scent of flour on my grandmother's hands, garlic chopped and pressed into tiny frozen pizzas, spaghetti with way too much garlic that I call "Chinese food spaghetti" and it makes her laugh because we're never really full. Home is in the kitchen, in her smile.
About The Artist
Johanna Skrip consists of competing elements, hailing from both the city and the country, from both poverty and middle-class America. And while home is where she lays her head at night, which holds no lasting significance to her any longer, home is also the sunlit kitchen of her grandmother's house, a memory of a place that no longer exists. Just as Jo is both a photographer and a writer, a photographer as well as a photographer no more, Johanna Skrip consists of competing elements.
Johanna can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.