(Fear of) Falling
I have been afraid of falling since I was a kid. I fell off my bunkbed, breaking both of my arms at once. I do not know if I have ever been so physically miserable and annoyed at what little I could do with no arms. However, if you asked me three years ago if I was afraid of falling, I would have shaken my head and jumped. I did jump. And it hurt more than any broken bone or scraped knee I had ever had before.
This photo series portrays the end of a 2.5-year relationship, and my process of trying to move forward and piece together who I am again. Symbols of attachment, isolation, sorrow, and anger have been ones of utter importance as I have begun to move through the motions and leave the past in the past. I have found that it is the pulling away from the past that feels the most uncomfortable, and sometimes wish that someone could put me out of my misery and cut apart the strands that keep my ex- and me bound together. Yet, that would be too easy. That to say, these photos are about the process as a whole. The process of growing apart instead of together, leaving the past in the past, learning that that cliche saying: when you fight fire with fire, you only get burned has some truth (if anything)-and ultimately, the fear of falling all over again.