And my 35mm camera and my two kids.
I started making these photographs long before the year of “period positivity” and way, way before these two creatures were born. I had just moved back to Atlanta, and I was curious to make pictures of this thing I’d never seen photographed. I built a darkroom in the bathroom of the split Victorian I rented. I photographed women in their bedrooms, an art gallery, the underwear aisle of Walmart. I filmed focus groups. Planned Parenthood Southeast lent me their non-profit status, and I crowdfunded. I had big plans. A year and a half later, a small festival in New York had just recruited me to produce a short documentary when I missed the first period of my first trimester.
Two unplanned pregnancies and two home births taught me a lot about this thing I was trying to photograph; so did a relationship in which my gender left me vulnerable, gaslighted, and diminished; so has single motherhood, which put a long pause in this project. In the three years since my oldest was born, I started a small business vacation-renting my home, quit my job running a bar, re-built my darkroom, and finally picked up these photographs again. Now I work in between breastfeeding the baby and answering the toddler’s relentless questions.