I find that when I am not making my photographs I wrap gifts like the wrapping is the gift, I will half knit a scarf or draw illustrations of bunny rabbits washing dishes with aprons on. Yet as productive and fruitful a loaf of banana bread may taste or how an afternoon matinee may sing to my worries like a "oh brother where art tho" lullaby absolutely none of them directly address my humanness.
When I first learned about the word personification I fell in love with the idea of all these objects coming to life. I think objects are the silent holders of owners secrets past. I feel for that old radio in the corner that doesn't work and the wedding dress with the red wine stain. Maybe its my fear that they represent me and how fleeting now is and how permanent death seams and how age is inevitable as is change and so by wearing them by saving them and by existing on film I honor them.
I believe in all my work there is a microscopic layer that leads like a staircase, at times hidden, into my core. It may just be a photograph of a woman water-falling herself down a stairway in a wedding gown. but to me it is my mothers wedding gown which was her mothers, and the stairs are ones who's bones my father laid, and somehow I am transported, and breathing and become vulnerable and even if it is as simple as the beginning of a sigh there is a truth told within an artificial event, and thats why I take photographs of myself I believe. There is a desire, amongst the weight of knowing our bodies will expire, to prove existence. In photographs everything is paused there is a sense of power in controlling that moment, the magic of the capture.