“The house has been in the family for years. The layout looks different,  pictures are hung on new walls, tables and chairs have moved and  collections have began to form. But the foundation is the same. A new house can’t be made when it’s full of all of what existed before. Like the tools and patterns we learn from our families, furniture is passed down from generation to generation. And only so much can fit in one house.”

Lida Ramsay constructs rooms from the fragmented pieces of homes past, rebuilding spaces within middle-class southern homes.

Ramsay delves into the world of collectors, capturing the essence of their obsessions through photography. What emerges is a portrait of longing and loss, as objects take on a sacred significance. Ramsay prompts the idea to reconsider the true essence of inheritance—not in the accumulation of possessions, but in the enduring legacy of our collective familial narratives.

She confronts the language of possession and control inherent in the act of photography itself, grappling with notions of theft and appropriation. The images evoke memory, obsession, and the complexities of domesticity. She confronts the tension between possession and agency, reclaiming control
through photography.