“Best Feature” is an ongoing photographic conversation with Kathleen about our relationship to our bodies, stemming from the seemingly benign question, “Which part of your body do you consider to be, or have you been told is, your best feature?” From there, we continue to discuss how the societal parcelization of women’s bodies deeply affects us, manifesting for her in a (past) eating disorder and for me, a years-long struggle with body dysmorphia. Both of us continue to struggle with dissociation when stressed or overwhelmed. By disconnecting from our emotional selves or by controlling behaviors, we’ve found a multitude of ways to disappear when we need to.

Despite our age difference and personal backgrounds, the experiences she and I have with our so-called best features have a lot in common: we are often told by others which parts of our bodies are valuable, detached from the context of our entire being and, most often, publicly decreed without consent. When we were children, these proclamations would often not only come from older men but women we looked up to or from whom we sought protection. Or worse, our similarly gangly and awkward childhood peers. We learned from a young age that our legs, lips, eyes, asses, whatever, weren’t so much features that made up a whole person with a soul, but rather assets for the meat market—these little points of consumption that anyone had a right to use, comment on, commodify or abuse at any time.

For 3 months in 2019, Kathleen allowed me to explore her body with my camera very myopically, which forced me to sit in the discomfort of gazing voyeuristically at my own friend. I felt compelled to ask her consent every time I came close with my lens, forced to say out loud the body part I was going to be capturing next. It made me viscerally aware of how exploitative the language of photography is: capturing, shooting, taking, etc.

However, this discomfort created an environment where we could also begin to discuss healing. How do we reclaim these pieces for the benefit of our whole? How can we be kinder to and more IN our bodies? Most importantly, how do we help protect the bodily autonomy of other women and non-binary people, being straight-sized, able-bodied, cis, white women?

Kathleen and I are continuing to find answers through honest dialogue. We’ve both found a lot of healing simply being in friendship with each other, offering respite from the isolation that allows this dysfunctional programming to thrive. We’ve also found healing by publicly embracing our vices and condemning the phrase “guilty pleasures”; warring against the notion of “clean eating” and morality around food; employing tattoos as art or armor or both; and engaging in communities that allow us to unapologetically take up more space.

With the aid of photography, both as photographer and subject, Kathleen and I are able to zoom out and see ourselves in a greater context than what the mirror allows. When our minds won’t allow us the distance, photographs can show us how others perceive us and often how infinitely more kind that view is. Our best angles are captured in action—not in what our bodies look like but what our bodies can do—and how we relate to others in the world. Photo by photo, we see ourselves as whole rather than an inert pile of disembodied parts for everyone but us to enjoy.

This collection is about the things I allow myself when I'm far away from home. It's about who I am when I am anywhere, untethered from my time zone, habits and expectations; where strangers become friends and my friends are frozen in time, waiting for my return. Sometimes I am full. Sometimes I am empty. And sometimes I drink before noon.

This collection is less about evoking a sense of place as it is about the texture and symmetry I find in the chaos and perfection of nature. I want to capture a world I can touch because there is no better cure for an overactive mind than tactile engagement. The natural world has the power to save me from myself.

This is an evolving collection centered around the idea of home, wherever you find it. It is about the warm complexity of living among others and the subtle balance of autonomy in our relationships. It is also about recognizing the innate beauty of utility, which imbues both the people, architecture and possessions that help us live our lives.

12” x 12” hardcover, full color photo book.

82 pages; 73 photographs.

Self-published in May 2019 (Blurb).

Print run of 3 books total.

An essay on the making of this work is HERE.