Fragility of Time
An unsettling anxiety begins to creep in when my younger daughter turns eight. Amidst the girls' growing independence, I struggle to recalibrate from being their world to becoming a part of it. Despite having more freedom, I experience a sense of being adrift.
Coincidentally during this time, a friend my age passes away from cancer, and a newfound awareness of mortality washes over me. Time becomes precious like never before. Having lived thus far within the framework of a daughter, wife, and mother, I feel compelled to search for myself anew.
These pictures are glimpses of my inner landscape. Using metaphors of color, and symbolisms from nature and art history, I explore memories, dreams, and suppressed emotions as I repair a fragmented self. I take stock while acknowledging the temporality of the human experience.
It all began with an epiphany– all at once my youngest wasn't a child anymore. Now both my daughters were ‘becoming', and something inside me was shifting. Amidst the girls' growing independence, I struggled to recalibrate from being their world to becoming a part of it. Despite having more freedom, I experienced a sense of being adrift.
Coincidentally during this time, a friend my age passed away from cancer. A renewed awareness of mortality washed over me. I felt on edge; the ticking of the clock became triggering. I was forty by the time I realized that my time hadn’t been mine to keep. An anxiety and deep melancholy for something lost crept in.
These are pictures of my inner landscape. I walk a tightrope between being seen and wanting to hide, letting go of my girls and yearning to hold them close, confronting the ghosts of my past and living vicariously through the promise of my daughters' youthful lives. Using metaphors of color, and symbolisms from nature and art history, I explore memories, dreams, and suppressed emotions as I navigate this ambivalent experience in midlife.
I stage pictures with my daughters within the confines of our home, and in the expanse of Central Park. Home symbolizes my domesticity, and holds memories of my labor. It is where I have devoted innumerable hours caring for my family. The Park is my refuge, where I center myself and find comfort in the company of its trees, wildflowers, and weeds. Here, I feel grounded in learning from nature and its magical offerings that all life is temporal– that we are all in a perpetual state of change and that each loss is the start of something new.