today marks what would have been my mom’s 54th birthday, it’s been just over two years since she passed away.

she had an incredible talent for creating beautiful, inviting spaces and her home is filled with her artistic expression. i wanted to do a series of self portraits here and photograph the things that remind me most of her.

here are a few of the things that i photographed:

- the bathroom where we had so many wonderful and thoughtful conversations, often with at least one of us partially or completely nude while getting ready.

my mom and my grandmother both normalized nudity for me from a young age. i used to be embarrassed by it but in adulthood i have come to see it as a gift that i hold dear. It enables me to feel at ease around other naked bodies, and helps me to feel at home in my own. 

- the crow figurine that i turned into a tattoo in honour of the women in my family and their affinity for crows. my mom and two of my grandmothers loved crows, and have all described to me different moments in their lives when they saw crows and it helped them to feel safe, or told them they were on the right path.

- the sun hat she hung on the wall because the beach was her favourite place to be. i have so many memories of her sunbathing in big straw hats like this one. 

- the bookshelf in her favourite room in the house, full of many of her favourite books that help me feel connected to her when i read them. when my brother and i were children she used to read to us every night in her bed. we would snuggle up together and my brother and i were often able to convince her to let us stay up past our bedtime to read just one more chapter.

my mom was an english teacher and she loved to read. i remember always being so in awe of the way she would describe books to me, the way she could break them down and tease out the meaning and emotion at the core of them, and the way she was moved by certain characters. at the end of her life she had 3 different books of poetry on rotation, one of which was written by my best friend. 

- a box filled with sweet grass and sage that she said was the only thing that kept her sane during long stays in the hospital. she hated being away from home and not being able to spend time outside or with the people she loved. 

even in some of the worst periods of her battle with cancer she remained kind and curious about others. many of the nurses who cared for her were moved by how tough and how wonderful she was.

- the bed where she died next to her favourite window in the house, the same bed that i’ve slept in for the past two summers. she told me she fell in love with this house because of all the big beautiful windows and how each one is surrounded by trees. she loved waking up next to this window because it made her feel like she was living in a cabin in the woods.

- the giant canvases she painted during what may have been manic periods of her bipolar disorder. my mother was misdiagnosed and incorrectly medicated the vast majority of her life, which resulted in two major mental breaks and some memory loss. when i think about how much she battled with in her life, and how she still managed to be the kindest and the safest person i have ever known, i am astounded. she was a safe space for so many people.

- her urn that was designed and made by a dear friend to mimic one of her pieces of art. the urn sits in the dining room across from the original drawing she gave to my father.

- a picture of moss that she took. she used to always send photos like this to me from her daily walks. nature was her saviour and she loved to walk around the lake and hike out at wascana trails. everytime i am out in nature  i think of her.

- a tiny cowboy and boot i’ve always loved. something about their placement so perfectly encapsulates how every inch of my mother’s home was intentional. 

- the buffalo she gave to my dad to thank him for being so strong in supporting and caring for her throughout the seven years that she battled cancer. all throughout her illness she told me how amazing my dad was to her and that she never would have made it so far without him.

watching him care for her, particularly in her last few months, was simultaneously the most heartbreaking and beautiful thing i have ever witnessed. the tenderness and love that my dad had for her, and the way that he looked after her every need was a beautiful testament to their lives together. 

- a few of the many beautiful rocks she collected over her lifetime. one of my favourite things about my mom’s home decor and design is her use of natural elements and negative space.

i remember once coming back to my childhood home after my brother and i had both moved out, and my parents had been getting it ready to sell. they had finally finished all the years long renovations and redecorated the rooms exactly how they had always wanted.

i remember looking around and realizing for the first time that my mom’s artistic expression was in every corner of the house. i felt so inspired and awestruck in that moment to see how someone can show themselves so clearly through the spaces they create

- a face that she sculpted in art school that hung in our garden when i was growing up

- a faceless self portrait of hers that is perfectly fitting because she hated having her photo taken

i miss my mom more deeply than I have words for and i am so grateful for all the pieces of herself that she left behind.

i heard something recently that seems perfectly fitting for this series of photos:

the only things we leave behind in this world are those we create,

children and art.