Room 26

I started photographing my parents as a way to learn more about unposed portraiture, not expecting that it would become a way to build a kind of intimacy I wasn’t completely prepared for.
When my mum got diagnosed with throat cancer I stopped photographing her, out of respect, until she asked me if I was done with “our project”.
I realized that photography had become a way to make sense of something that was too big for us both, to find meaning in places there was none.
I wanted to make sure that my mum was involved in every step of the process, that we could renegotiate consent every day, that she had the power to veto every image that was taken.