As a kid, my dad would drive down old country roads, our destination being nowhere in particular. We just drove, and I looked out the window, trying to document in my mind everything I saw. You have to look intently, though, if you want to remember. As the car zips down the road, so too, do the images. There is something reminiscent about approaching photography in the same way, using my car as a way to discover new scenes to photograph in an unfamiliar area. As an adult, I think back to the drives with my dad. I remember them, but sometimes they aren’t fully clear. Combining my love for painting and drawing with the art of photography, I suggest the presence of memory by drawing over the prints. The mark making is instinctive, and rather than translating reality, it speaks to how we remember things gone by.