Make this house a home

This project was born out of a medical diagnosis that left me staring down the barrel of a possible heart surgery. I then started photographing people with the simple premise of having a conversation about our relationships to our bodies.

I start shooting this work after a medical diagnosis  sets me off on a classic mortality spiral. I suppose it  happens to everyone at some stage in their life. The  moment that the fragility of their body is presented  to them. This sack of bones in which you live out  your life? Sweetie, it can break! 

For me, the puncture of my prior carefree existence  comes after a year of testing and a cardiologist  telling me that with this condition I have, I will  probably live a normal life, unless I suddenly die. 

What to make of such an idea? I’ll be okay unless I  suddenly die. 

In truth, there is no permanent place of comfort in  the body, because this vessel of flesh which carries  me around will always be evolving, degrading,  rebuilding. This body is where my consciousness  encounters the structures of the physical world and  all of its limitations.  

Hooked up to an ECG monitor for a month I feel  cyborgian. What makes my arm feel like it’s mine?  The cords glued to me, feeling part of my body  temporarily. Every now and then I pull out an app  connected to the cables and I watch the trace of  my heartbeat. Absurd. This little beat stops and all  my plans are out the window, I need all these tiny  functions to work. I’ll be okay unless I suddenly die. 

I wonder, how does everyone else reckon with  the divide between their consciousness and their  body? I start shooting people nude in their homes.  This opens up another can of worms. Covering  and uncovering the body is strangely political,  loaded. We police the body with moving targets.  Some bodies are under higher examination than  others. The diversity of people’s bodies and their  lived experiences mean that some understand and  reckon with this earlier than others.  

The people I photograph tell me about how they  feel connected to their bodies and we make  shapes into pictures from their thoughts. We work  through gestures, searching for easing of tension,  searching for vigour. How do you make a home  from this shell you’ve been given? Like spaces,  our bodies hold history, memory and evidence of  our experiences; the site for our hopes, dreams,  anxieties and fears to play out.