The 2nd image from this photo shoot. I was thinking about young girls falling down wells, and the archaic quality to that idea. No one falls down wells anymore, (at least that I am aware) but it seemed a very real danger at one time. Even as a child, my parents had me fearful of falling down a well. I live at an old farm house, and I’ve been to a lot of old farm houses, so the possibility is a bit more realistic. I pondered the cold, lonliness of this demise. I think really, the ‘falling down a well’ is more a metaphor for ‘dying of loneliness’… I can’t imagine a more frightening experience, cold, dark, no one to hear you in the long tunnel that evenlopes. I liked the interplay of the ground grabbing hold of and surrounding her. A dark welcome; a return to mother; but it is also not letting her leave, holding her back.
I really love how it turned out.