I WISH I HAD MY MOTHER'S GAZE
Archival Print, 30 x 20 in. , 2014
 
On a day which began as any other, I experienced my father as my mother had experienced me some time ago.
Bedridden and in rest, I attempted to see the humour of his posture and reassure myself that his fatigue was nothing to be worried about. It was unlike him to stay in bed this long I thought, unable to detach myself from a creeping premonitory sense of his fragility and mortality. As much as I wished to erase such thoughts, I was cognisant of the circumstance and manner in which my mother had captured my disheveled state with a photo when I lay infirm days before my diagnosis with HIV.
I observed the way the soft light fell across his body and transported me back to that time in my life when I was oblivious to what ailed me. I wished the lens of optimism that mother had when she observed me was one which I could use to filter out the sense of loss I feared. 
My father would pass away suddenly and unexpectedly from aggressive brain cancer days after his diagnosis, days after this photo was taken. 
I Wish I Had My Mother's Gaze, 30 x 20 in. Archival Print, 2014
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