Why I Take Pictures

I first started taking pictures when my father was dying. My relationship with my father was never easy and his death brought a host of complicated feelings that often left me at a loss for words. Unable to describe what I was feeling, I began to take pictures - of everything, from his hospital bed to the food he was served while in the hospital. I didn't want to forget anything and somehow taking photos reassured me that I wasn't going crazy, that my father was indeed dying and that it was my job to bear witness to it.

Since that time I have been obsessed with taking photos. I am particularly drawn to textures, colors  and words- images of objects that scream to be touched and seen and read. To bear witness to those things that cannot be fully described by words. 

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