A Quiet Erosion

Following the birth of my twins in 2017, this series explores how motherhood and shared sensitivity quietly reshape the boundaries between self and care.

A Quiet Erosion

Following the birth of my twins in 2017, this series explores how motherhood and shared sensitivity quietly reshape the boundaries between selfhood and care.

In 2017, the boundaries of my existence began to dissolve. Motherhood brought immense joy, but it was also a quiet erosion of the self. The distance that once defined me disappeared, replaced by an unrelenting closeness that consumed my senses.

I turn to photography not to document family life, but to trace the invisible threshold between the role of a mother and the core of my being. Working with analogue film, I release the shutter only when I can fully locate myself within the moment. The camera helps me navigate the overwhelming noise of intimacy and find a place where I can breathe as myself.

Through light and shadow, these images register a state of fluctuation. Forms emerge and recede, dissolving into light or sinking into darkness. I have come to understand that the self I believed lost had not vanished, but been reshaped through time, touch, and closeness.

This work holds a fragile equilibrium. It inhabits the space where I am both a mother and an autonomous individual—existing in a constant, quiet oscillation between the two.