Oma, the matriarch, was dying, I was getting married, and Mom was somewhere in the middle — parent, housewife, daughter, mother, caretaker.

As the wedding approached, I regressed to an almost childlike state. I questioned everything: my upbringing, our family history, our faith, and I looked to my mother to guide me through it.

Through photography we escaped, she from the banality of suburban rituals and I from my debilitating anxiety. All the while we watched Oma fade.

Exercises in closeness, these works document performances, tantrums, and the signifiers of gender roles and domesticity with which we are shaped as women — parent, housewife, daughter, mother, caretaker.

They document the path of becoming by way of holding on and letting go.
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