THE WITCHING HOUR

I become a mother and stop sleeping through the night.  Years go by, the child sleeps soundly in his bed but I still wake at every noise.  My father comes to live with us and all of a sudden I am a mother to everyone. As I drift off to sleep I can no longer tell my dreams from reality.  In one nightmare my father tells me he’s only got two weeks left to live, in another I am late to pick up my son from school and never see him again. I am afraid of monsters, but instead of running, I move towards them: we circle each other until I realize that  they are just as afraid of me as I am of them.  

My images follow the logic of my dreams, where we are trapped in a strange colorful world, playing a never ending game of hide and seek in a labyrinth of love, care and fears, pushing against its walls, with no way to escape but wake up. 

This work explores the emotional landscape of caregiving:  tenderness, beauty  guilt, and a constant sense of what could be lost.