Emily Persic
Emily has been known to characterize herself at unguarded moments as "stubborn, arrogant, smart, insecure, confident, curious, noisy, a middle child and a mama of 5." She has brown eyes, small wrists, and believes she walks too fast, which she uses as an ineffective excuse for her clumsiness. This un-solitary life is formed by tragedy and beauty, love and anger, in equal doses. In this, Emily finds purpose: whether it is found in busy foreign streets, wild holy places, or her own back yard, she stumbles across images and finds them irresistible. She strives everyday to see, really see; it seems so many images of grace and tragedy slip by without acknowledgment because the world is unwilling to open its eyes -- not only to the obvious, but to the possible. While in a new place, all is strange and astounding and beautiful to her. When she returns home things become clearer: the torn curtain, the dingy wall, the beautiful, overgrown garden, the people in the city walking down the street who turn toward or away from each other in hope and agony. Despite situations and visions of a nation, a world, that seem increasingly dark, Emily retains an absurd and steadfast sense of optimism.