Sympathy with small things when time stops
This series uses photography to pinpoint deep feelings of distress and loss to articulate without words, capture and eventually let go. In 2020, just before the COVID-19 lockdown, I found out that I was pregnant and one month later that I had experienced a miscarriage. Living within enforced isolation, with minimal forms of distraction or escape, required new ways to recognise and deal with emotions. The resulting photographs are taken at home and in the surrounding area; the locale allowed for the once-daily walk. The nearby canal was a place to viscerally experience the atmosphere and climate, raindrops meeting tears and sunshine lifting the darkness.
This process created an opportunity to see the pain as an open wound, intentionally not turning away from it, to communicate honestly in a way which can be a therapeutic device for others experiencing similar trauma. This approach goes against many communities’ silence about miscarriage, despite how common it is, and also draws our attention to the natural tendency to hide our experience of difficult life events.
This process created an opportunity to see the pain as an open wound, intentionally not turning away from it, to communicate honestly in a way which can be a therapeutic device for others experiencing similar trauma. This approach goes against many communities’ silence about miscarriage, despite how common it is, and also draws our attention to the natural tendency to hide our experience of difficult life events.