For Mother's Day I was going to write a grandiloquent tribute to my mom. Included in the blueprint: the time she explained--while cuddling next to me in bed--about the origins of babies, when she clarified to my teenage self why the males of this world crave the female anatomy, how she helped me plan my dream wedding for a marriage she knew was doomed. These are the stories that have salted our relationship.
But then we were asked to be a part of Justin Hackworth's 30 Strangers in 30 Days project to benefit the Women and Children in Crisis Center. And as we took to the photo shoot, I was asking Justin why his photography produced sentiments inside of me. His shots of a bride and her father pre-matrimony or a senior citizen in her fantastic front room gave me an interconnection to unknowns. Instead of looking at glossy photography emphasizing what I don't have, his shots helped me to realize what I do. How was it done?
"Photography is a language."
He explained to me, backed up against the corner of an empty loft, clicking and judging the light on my face. For a skilled artist, a great subject needs nothing more than humanity built by existence, or soul. More importantly, I see now that words are not needed where sublime art will do.
Without my wordy tribute, this is the story of me and my mother.
Happy Mother's Day to the beautiful woman who shared with me her womb--
and much more.
Want to see more of our photo shoot? Maybe a glimpse of the standing Chief?