My passion for photography started with a small black and white image taken by my dad of my mother. It’s morning and she’s still full of sleep and bed-headed beauty. She’s lifting a cup to her lips. It’s grainy and slightly out of focus and the quality of light streaming in from the window is tangible and gives me chills.
Disregarding the ‘digital’ verses ‘film’ agenda (which I would happily battle about with you at any time other than now) I sometimes can’t get enough of highlight and shadow, black and white, emotion, light.
A composition changes when you convert it from color to black and it doesn’t always work. But on a recent ‘between season’ collaboration shoot with The Nest + Bespoke, the punch was in the conversion. A black and white conversion took me from a nice visual experience to a soul searching depth that instantly connected me with a past I was never a part of except for the fact that I am a woman. And there is something all enduring about womanhood. A connection to struggles in the past leads us to strength in the present and the future.
She’s there. When it’s all said and done and everything is burned and broken and taken; she’s not. She’s still there. Not in a weakness that says I’m mourning and sad and refuse to move on, but in a way that says no matter what happens I will endure.