When my mother gave birth to my half-sister Erica, I was twenty years old. Sitting in the hospital room with my camera at 4 a.m., mom made giving birth look easy. I photographed as Erica made her way into the world, cut her umbilical cord myself, and was the very first person to hold her. In that moment I gave her a name she didn't get to keep. And she peed on me.
Ever since, photographing Erica has been a window into my own elusive childhood.
The front yard became a pumpkin patch after Erica planted seeds the year before.
Photo of myself taken by Erica
Mom says her hugs last long after she lets go.
