They are both now gone. Grandpa first, then Grandma. After she died and I was home for the funeral, I went around their house taking pictures of the rooms, their bed, the porch, to capture their lives as I knew and experienced. A pair of silver sewing scissors and red-framed reading glasses that you buy at the supermarket. A framed black-and-white school picture of my handsome grandfather viewed through the back of an antique wooden chair. It was an attempt to create something tangible that I could reference when the memories began to slip.

Back in NYC my camera and computer were stolen, along with the entire collection of images I had gathered since I had switched to digital. In my efforts to capture a very personal humanity, to defy its very fleeting nature, I was shown in quick action what happens to our lives, our thoughts, loves, sounds, wishes.

Your pictures above are somber yet comforting, and your overall work is pretty extraordinary. How lucky that I found you by searching for “lady in sunglasses.”