Documentary Photographer and Artist
I remember when I lost a lover. He went to be with a beautiful woman. I remember him crying on the phone to me, his guilt seeping into my ear and irritating me.
I’ve found myself in life and especially with work, dishing out a variety of emotions I didn’t often get back.
I woke up for weeks with anxiety. Not because I missed or had loved him, but because I wasn’t used to the absence in my bed. I woke up feeling like I had lost something, like I had spent a heavy night out and only just realized I couldn’t find my phone. You see, if this absence, this aloneness was felt, then surely it was important?
I was struggling with work at the time, but things quickly picked up and I found myself constantly surrounded by people and yet, still, that absence was there. I then knew it was internal. I’ve found myself in life and especially with work, dishing out a variety of emotions I didn’t often get back. In the old relationship, we cared for each other, just enough. Just. Serving each other spoonfuls of wants masked as vulnerabilities and neither ever fully receiving.
With work and my approach in documentary photography, I am my most sincere self. People entrust me with their stories and before they get to that point, I often have to turn myself inside out and expose the rawness and truth of my intentions. But people in front of my camera aren’t lovers. And lovers don’t always give themselves to you. And you eventually realise that you can store parts of yourself for safekeeping for times when you think you’ve given it all away.
I am finding things and entire beings in myself.
I shot myself in a more intimate space and in a very personal way that reflected the story I felt with the necklaces.