I kept the exposed rolls of film in my top desk drawer. They were right up front where I couldn’t avoid seeing them every day.

Who knows how long I’d have let them percolate were it not for the fact that I’d made a few portraits for friends, and it didn’t feel right to keep them waiting any longer


Those rolls took me from fall to winter, as I moved from anxious to cautiously optimistic about my mother’s health to disconsolate resignation and into mourning.


I didn’t want to see my too tender emotions translated into emulsion right away, but I know that’s not the only reason I dallied in sending my film off to the lab. The delay was really a little mental game I was playing with myself – holding the liminal space and time between the making and the fixing of the images hostage – because I wasn’t yet ready to move from before to after.


Take good care, be well
Debbie
And this is why photography is about so much more than simply taking pictures. The seasons of change are tender and beautiful – reflected perfectly in this series of photographs.
I can feel that liminal space wtihin thess images.
Much love. x
How did you feel when you got your scans…?