That Day May Come

I have been afraid my whole life. It is likely a trait passed on from my mother. My father is fearless, or at least he does not show it. I remember as a small child crying uncontrollably, typically when I had done something wrong. My parents would become frustrated. I wanted to stop, I just couldn’t. As I grew older, when presented with stressful situations, I would cry. I am relatively certain my parents thought I was just weak willed. Strike out in baseball, cry; do poorly in math class, cry; do well in social studies during a presentation, cry. I was all over the board. Stress has broken me down over and over again. I began to make these images just after I proposed to my wife. She has always been supportive and patient. She has battled her own issues of anxiety - perfect match. These photos represent my fears and hopes. The ubiquitous nature of these two feelings is as old as humanity. It is like one can’t exist without the other; good and bad; life and death; Sonny and Cher. I have collected contemplative moments in which I am on the edge of hope and the cliff of fear. Adding my son to the familial equation has strengthened the hope and exacerbated the fear. I am afraid of everything again. Except now, I know that I have to be fearless, or at least try not to show it.