I did some black and white portraits of my mum for my week 3 photography assignment. It was meant to be fly-on-the-wall type stuff, not posed, 30 shots in an hour edited to 15 prints. She was writing letters (it’s nice, try it) at the kitchen table and I spent a lot of time crawling on the floor and crouching under tables and sitting on kitchen countertops for different angles, but I do that anyway so no one thought anything of it (people stopped saying “Justine, what are you doing up/down/underneath there?” years ago). It was pretty great and got me looking at a person I know intimately in ways that I hadn’t before, which was the whole point. It’s amazing how little we really see each other, isn’t it? Something can be in front of you every day, or you can think you really know someone, but there’s always a new way of looking, of knowing. And I’ve discovered that it’s so important to slow down when making photographs. It makes such a difference. Slow down and just look. Watch and wait and the shot will appear. There’s no need to grab it or capture it or force it. No need to persuade it or convince it into being. Be gentle. Be patient. Be open. Trust and it will come in time. Like love.

So we had a laugh and my sister contributed random props like wire elephants and strings of South African beads and panties embroidered by her boyfriend.

Yeah, I was surprised about that one too.

Mum’s half-way through her chemo, so while it was fun I also felt raw and sad seeing her looking so vulnerable. She is strong and youthful, but she looks tired and has lost a lot of hair. Still, her blood count is fine, she’s able to work and has as much energy as she ever did so it’s all good.

She’s picking up her “hairdo” from the hospital later this week. What larks, eh?

(In case you’re interested, here are my favourites from week 1’s fuckton of self portraits, and week 2, take a photo after every 50 steps. Did I mention how much I am loving this? I am loving this.)

(Source: Flickr / sniffy_jenkins)