The great poets knew that the problem with moments is that they are fleeting, a favorite quote of mine represents the impact photography has on these moments, “Rage, rage against the dying of the light,” Dylan Thomas once shouted into the abyss. The camera, for me, represents a bloodless revolution. A protest against the fogginess of things. A photographer has the rare opportunity to capture a moment; one that never had existed before, that will never exist again and whose beauty would have otherwise been surrendered. The photographer flirts with immortality.
My Grandma, someone who is very important to me, is in a nursing home, and life is not the same. I can not see her during these times of uncertainty. I find myself yearning for her in the objects she has given me and the memories we share together. Through photography and a series of cyanotypes, I immortalize my grandma, with a crossword that could still be finished, a teacup passed down through three daughters, and a portrait with lively, loving eyes staring back at me. She is with me and lives amongst me even though I cannot be with her.