Passers-by regularly ask if my children are twins even though they are more than two years apart. While this question continues to surprise me I also understand that it’s not their looks prompting the inquiry, it’s how they are together. I am daily awed by the relationship my son and daughter have and the sibling dynamics that intertwine them.
As an only child I grew up hovering around the edges of other people's families. I watched how brothers and sisters spoke to one another, treated each other sometimes as equals but more often as rivals. I found their relationships often terrifying and bewildering. It seemed rare to me to see young siblings love, but once in a while I caught a glimpse. Despite what I saw, I was envious and felt left out. I tell my children how lucky they are to have each other and I lament being alone at their age. My daughter tells me, "but now you have us."
Capturing the post-millennial culture that envelops my children as they grow, and seeing them through a societal patina of fear and childhood restriction, emphasizes their ferocity of opinions and determination of their team stance. They have conquered their world in ways I never could as a child and they have knowledge of self, individually and as one. Though we are tightly knit, though I find myself taking a voyeuristic viewpoint because I have no personal frame of reference for their behavior together as siblings. I see them through an intimate lens, but also acknowledge their distinction.
2013 - ongoing
16" x 20" Archival ink jet prints, framed 20" x 24"
