My ghost.. a photographic expression from a few years ago of my exploration into my existence and therefore my son’s. This is a very personal thing to me.. finding my own mother when I was 19 and pregnant with my son.. finding my own mother was just a need at the time..
I found her and to my shock, she was severely visually impaired and in a wheelchair..
For the short moments we spoke on the phone, I tried to get to know her but she seemed to cry silently most of the time.. that was hard to experience on many levels..
but I could hear somehow.. I was 19..
I smiled on the phone in some strange unfamiliar empathy..
I knew her sadness though..somehow I just did..
what is a mother?
A protector..