NS-104 - 2023
Rural highways take us past places like vibrant small towns and villages that form the cornerstone of communities. Drivers may discount these smaller settings as folksy and anachronistic, speeding past them and miss the signs and details that share important information about who has lived here, and what community members mean to each other. In these photos, I explore the artefacts and memorials that community members leave behind when someone dies, showing the specific and special touches that speak to both the unique nature of person who was loved, and how that person’s death has impacted their community.
Inspired by my own grandparents’ deaths and the process of finding traces of them after their deaths in their homes and hometowns, I document the details of these traces in the lives of other people. In smaller communities such as the one my grandparents come from, these traces provide opportunities for regular remembrance within the community, planting the seed for that person’s legacy to grow and for their memory to continue. Boats no longer in use, empty fishing shacks, cars for sale, and piles of personal property prompt us to ask each other who owned them and to remember the person’s name and nature. Taken along NS 104 and concentrated in Pictou County, these photographs ask us to stop and consider why some objects come to stay at the side of the road, what meanings they might have, and what messages they tell us about the real people who lived and left pieces of themselves to be remembered by.
Whats Mine is Yours - 2024
Roloff Beny Scholarship
what's mine is Yours” is an exhibition of photographs that examines the responsibility of privilege. Musick presents a series of images that explore the mixed emotions that accompany the opportunities we are born into, and the accompanying social and personal responsibilities these opportunities bring us.
Where we Once were - 2023
"Where We Once Were" is a photographic black and white diptych of the continuous growth between my sister and I as we continue to experience life apart now from one another. Throughout our childhood, endless beaches in the hot summer days collecting and examining sea life with our grandmother was our playground. These times are often reminisced on as we have moved on with greater anxieties and responsibilities. The two images were taken on 4x5 black and white film as a testament to our collective upbringing and the time it holds. The piece is presented as a diptych because we are no longer within physical proximity to one another as often. The images are composed with both our hands and our collections of shells from our childhood beach in Pictou, Nova Scotia. We hold the core memories of our childhood close as to when life was much simpler.
I have learned in recent years that I tend to photograph my subconscious fears. Fear is what holds my attention, it is what keeps me up late at night, and it is what I am most drawn to visually. Homelessnessis my biggest fear, with social media advocating “VanLife” I set out to photograph this in-between stateof homelessness to understand what life is like without living on stable ground.Home is where the bed is - 2023
Hold Fast - 2022
This project began as a question to myself of “why do I invest in tattoos?” The simple answer is that I am infatuated with the people who could endure the stinging pain of being pricked thousands of times all for the sake of artwork being permanently inlayed into their skin.
I wanted to be this kind of person; growing into someone who has the passion to express their perspective on life through artwork akin to their personal aesthetic, with little care to what other people think
