In our day-to-day, how often do we gaze at strangers, guessing at the details of their lives and imagining where they come from, how they fill their time, what stories they carry with them?
The images I create are intimate and inquisitive. In addition to allowing a glimpse into what I’m drawn to as a woman, a photographer, and an artist, I aim to invite viewers to reflect, ask questions, and fill in the blanks for themselves. As often as possible, I leave faces obscured so as to shift emphasis to those looking at the images, encouraging them to bring their own emotions, memories, and sensitivities to the work. If a portrait engages a viewer for what would normally be too long a period to lock eyes with a stranger, I know I’ve succeeded.
When I interact with a subject, I’m drawn to shapes, shadow, and movement: eyes shifting, fingers grazing a collarbone, the beginnings of a word on the corner of the lips. I’m interested in focusing attention on what’s left once the superficiality of the outside world is stripped away—and I’ve learned that in order to create an environment that encourages vulnerability, it’s important to allow myself to be vulnerable, too. My interactions with the people I photograph are what shape the emotional architecture of my images, and my goal is to tell visual stories that comprise a diversity of perspectives: my own, my subject’s, and, of course, those of the viewers.
I want my work to be a conversation that ultimately leaves the last remark to them—asking them to look closer; linger a little longer; explore beyond the scope of comfort, familiarity, and deeply rooted sense of self.