Even before the start, my mother guided me toward photography—and now, she helps me navigate it.
In early December, my mother called. Her foot surgery would be far more intense than we expected.
I got very excited when I heard about the Women’s March in Washington. I wanted to be part of something historic. I needed community.
Growing up, I longed for summer. For the ways summer transformed and freed me to do whatever, wherever. This summer I took that license as far as I ever have.
Unlike the poem, which requires you add everything before you can think about removing things, the photograph achieves through reduction.
An opportunity came to visit the Bay Area, where my boy and his family live, which was too good to pass on.
My mother’s cousin, Gina, was dying. She knew this. We knew this. She’d been making her peace with the aggressive return of an aggressive cancer for over a year.