It's Strange Here

A Caribbean island, an inner-city stoop, the basement of a construction site—landscapes psychological and geographical, imbued with loss. But the people in It’s Strange Here don’t search for solutions to this loss. They observe its effect. Describe its features. Seek the sometimes beautiful and sometimes strange solace of the other. These people speak of faith—not its resurgence, but a heightened doubt about its efficacy. Of anger—raising one’s fists against the world. Of innocence—a desire to retreat into simplicity. Of Eros—the antidote to Thanatos. And of the pursuit of the flesh, a faith in the most ephemeral of objects—the body.