I distinctly remember sitting in my husband’s Grandmother’s bedroom as we packed up her home for her move to the nursing facility, I saw photographs of her as a young woman for the first time. She was beautiful. Not to say she isn’t still, but I have always known her wrinkled, withered, elderly body, it’s a different kind of beauty now, fortitude and wisdom and strength. In her youth she was vital, handsome, graceful and fine. That moment taught me more about my own mortality and the inevitable march of time than any other. I knew her more as a whole person after seeing those pictures. I’ve been taking pictures ever since. This is fleeting, this body, this life, this moment. I want to capture it.
