I used to worry that I would turn into my mother.. Now I worry that I won’t.  Her shoes are unfillable…..Livonne

I’ve always loved photographs.  Even if I didn’t know the people in them, I loved the ability to make time stand still.  I especially love old photos. I loved looking at photos of my mum and seeing a young woman.  I never knew her as that.  She was only a few weeks off 40 when I was born.  The young, beautiful woman in the photos was recognisable but so different.

When I had kids of my own, I wanted to capture all those moments of their lives.  I’m so glad I did as when my daughter was only 10 she was killed on an access visit and photos were all I had.  I had a lot but nowhere near enough, so I set out on a mission to photograph my sons at every available moment I could. They probably hated it but let me do it anyway, understanding how important it was for me.

Then I went back at age 51 to study photography at college.  Only planning on doing a hobby course, I ended up continuing on with it until I had completed my Diploma of Photo Imaging.  Capturing that one moment in time forever is such a buzz and I loved seeing those frozen moments.  But soon, I wanted more.

I wanted to create stories with my photos and so I started studying some of the incredible conceptual photographers around.  Erik Johansson and Brooke Shaden became two of my favourites.  Quite different to each other in style but they are both incredibly talented at the art of making the unreal look real.  They spurred me on to create photos that made the impossible look normal. I’m currently doing a 30 day challenge with the lovely Brooke Shaden and am loving every moment of it.  Today’s challenge was recreating a memory.

Most of my memories include my mum.  She was my rock and my best friend. When I decided I wanted to tell stories with my photos, one of the most important to me was how much I missed my mum.    She was a wonderful woman.  Mother of 12 children, she had more patience than anyone I knew.  Her usual attire was a floral dress with a hand knitted cardigan made from any spare wool she had (which never matched), joggers, sparkly earrings and a smile.  She believed a cup of tea could cure all the ills of the world.

This is my tribute to my mum.  A cup of tea not drunk…. an apron without hand prints…… a pair of shoes that can never be filled and a beautiful smile reflecting back at me wherever I go.







One thought on “Unfillable

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