Still Here, and Gone

Taking my brother’s accident as its starting point, Still Here, and Gone explores ambiguous loss and caregiving—the often-overlooked experience of family members navigating care, relief, and loss.

Still Here, and Gone began after my brother was seriously injured in a traffic accident when he was struck by a taxi while riding his bike. He survived and gradually returned to everyday life. In the years that followed, accompanying him, providing practical support, and taking on responsibility became part of my own life. At first, there was so much to organize and take care of that my own feelings receded into the background. Only over time did I realize that alongside the relief at his survival, there was also a sense of loss. This experience became the starting point for the series.

Later, I encountered psychologist Pauline Boss’s concept of ambiguous loss: a form of loss in which presence and absence can coexist. A person can still be there while closeness, roles, and forms of interaction change. Unlike bereavement after death, there is no clear moment of farewell and often no ritual through which this experience can be acknowledged. Care and grief can coexist. Encountering this concept helped me understand that these seemingly contradictory feelings do not have to be mutually exclusive.

The photographs emerge from my perspective as a family member. Some images arise from observation, while others are intuitively staged. In landscapes and found situations, I discover forms and states in which I recognize aspects of this experience. Bodies, gestures, objects, spaces, and landscapes form an open, nonlinear sequence. Recurring motifs and formal relationships connect the photographs while allowing different interpretations to coexist.

For me, photography becomes a space for emotions that are often difficult to acknowledge or express in everyday life. The series also draws attention to the often less visible experience of family members and caregivers: their own emotional lives alongside caring for another person. Through these photographs, I attempt to give form to this ambivalence without resolving it.