Stories have to be told or they die, and when they die, we can’t remember who we are or why we’re here.” –Sue Monk Kidd
This is the story of me. Of us. The story of you and her and him. It’s the story of motherhood and daughterhood and sisterhood. Oh yes and friendship, because we don’t get far in this journey without friendship. It’s the story of truth and sincerity and connection- connection with one another and nature, but mostly, connection to ourselves. It’s the story of pain and discomfort and insecurity. But it’s also the story of courage and communion. You see, each of us has a story unfolding just under that skin of ours. Some of us feel it scratching at the surface, ruthlessly gasping for oxygen and light. For others, it’s a badge we wear proudly. We’re open books and our story flows freely from our pores. And for some of us, it echoes deeper down in the muscle fibers. A beatbeatbeat in our chest and we don’t quite have the words but we know it’s there so we just feel it for now.
Whatever chapter you are at within your own story, we hope you find comfort in the art created here. We hope you recognize a piece of yourself in one of the photos and breathe a little deeper knowing another soul is there too. We hope to make you a little uncomfortable like the stirring of something raw and vulnerable, because friends, asking photographers to turn the camera on themselves is one of the rawest and most vulnerable places to be. And lastly, we ask you to be kind to each other and yourself. True stories are hard to write.