In my early teens, after experiencing my first death in the family, I developed an odd fascination with the preservation of spaces.

I missed my grandmother, of course, but coupled with that was the sense of a loss of place. I’d never again visit that house, sit in that armchair with my feet dangling above the floor, nod off to the soothing sound of the pendulum in the wooden wall clock.

I’d realised I’d been on this earth a short time, and that the places I’d assumed would be permanent were anything but. I took a lot of photographs.

Edith Finch tells varied, connected stories, and asks several important questions, but the one I found the most interesting was: is there value in preserving these physical snapshots of a person’s life, when that person is gone?

Giant Sparrow have made something utterly compelling, and I think Tom Waits was right.

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