Yolanda

Fragile like a crystal, light like the wind, strong if you wanted, loved (forever).

You didn't like photographs, you avoided me for years.
But when you didn't notice me anymore, I took advantage of it.
As I took these pictures I felt your fragility, stroked your rough, scaly skin, combed your thin pearl-colored hair and supported your legs.
This is what I will always do, every time I look at them. I will hear you.

The project started last summer, in the hardest moment of my grandmother's disease, Parkinson's; a disease that makes you stiff, prevents the fluidity of movements, declaring yourself unstable and stationary. It cancels you, it ages you, it kills you.

The last few months have been the hardest, January, February and March; I have seen it twice and there are two images in my head, but you will not see them. These unseen images mark the end of the project.

I'm sure you will understand why I failed to take them.