The world changed before our eyes. This is where we are now.

For the past 32 days, along with the majority of the world, we’ve been on lockdown. It’s been (and continues to be!) a process of grief, adaptation, acceptance and love. I’ve had genuine moments of the clearest unadulterated  joy with my people, but also  deep despair that extends so far beyond myself, in a way I’ve never experienced before.

Obviously, I’ve found therapy through my camera. As before covid, after covid. In moments of chaos this has always been my way to focus on the here and now, distilling something in to smaller pieces, sifting through what is here bringing me back to myself and making sense in the chaos.

I’m shooting on all formats, with whatever I have to hand - film, digital, iPhone. Formats usually lend a certain quality to a project, and the fact that I’m reaching for all of them right now adds to the overall feeling for me. Film is slow, considered, need light and care. iPhone is quick and easy, lets me literally shoot from the hip. Digital is somewhere between the two. Everything feels and looks different from one day to the next, one moment to the next. This time has its own rhythm, it’s own pace, it’s ups and downs. I’ll be documenting this as I move through it, adding to the project in real time.

Each image is a snapshot of where we were, then.

This is where we are now.

These layers of love

and time

and place

and meaning

which culminate in this moment.

They are everything.

The thing is; I am never just coming to take photographs of your kids.

Yes, your kids are adorable and joyous and hold centre stage in your life right now - but you are the one/s running the whole.damn.show. You are there, everyday, performing the same acts of love over and over. 

I come to put that evidence in your history books.

…

As adults we have such vulnerabilities when it comes to being seen; afraid of being in front of a camera and letting things unfold.

I know how this feels. The discomfort of standing in the light when all we really want to do is watch admiringly as our small people shine like little beacons.

As women it’s especially hard. It can feel that we need to be or look or act a certain way. Perform the idea of Motherhood we carry around with us, that we saw once in a movie or read about in a book.

But please know this: I don’t want or need you to be anything but who you are right now.

Because that is everything.

And your history books need the evidence.