I took an image of myself in my apartment when I was 27. I sat on my bedroom floor not sure what to do with the overwhelming emotions that came from being severely depressed. At the time, I had my camera and a collection of synthetic butterflies that I’d used for a previous photograph. I’d been a photographer for a little under a decade by then, and published my best images both online and in print. But it was the first image that gave me fulfillment in a way that didn’t need any public validation. I kept the image to myself and wrote a letter to my older cousin.
She was my best friend as a kid and the only other artist in my family. We spent our time together writing stories, drawing portraits, and finding creative ways to express ourselves. Between visits to her house as child, we stayed in contact by writing letters back and forth. We’d send each other illustrations and get lost in the magic of our imagination. When I was 12, I was told my last letter couldn’t be sent because she had passed away. At the time, I wasn’t given the exact reason. I remember the world going quiet. I wasn’t sure how to articulate my emotions, so I developed a coping mechanism that kept me quiet about my feelings. I learned to internalize every emotion going forward.
As I got older, I learned that my cousin had suffered from depression. She, too, struggled with an eating disorder, and it was what eventually took her life. After I wrote that letter in my apartment that day, I made writing into a journal a part of my life. It was easy to talk to my cousin again. With that, my intention with art changed. I packed just my essentials, and I moved across the country creating a visual diary of my journey in life. I continued to write in my journal, and created photographic letters to the person who kept the essence of my creativity alive.
This collection of images encompasses a universal narrative that speaks to the essence of being human. It encourages viewers to contemplate their own journey of self discovery and moments of solitude and resilience. Each image serves as a testament to the enduring spirit within us all and our ability to find ourselves and heal, even when faced with profound challenges. Ultimately, this series stands as a testament to photography’s transformative power, capacity to heal wounds, and its ability to reveal the beauty that emerges from the fragments of our shattered selves.
“I paint self portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best.” - Frida Kahlo
“I create art not because I can, but because I can’t not.” Mati German - photographer, artist, friend
