For 20 years as a journalist, I dedicated my time to the pursuit of facts and knowledge. Lately, facts have been collapsing — both in the geopolitical world and in my personal world as a woman experiencing the memory gaps brought on by perimenopause. In response, this series explores the friction between our literal history and the fluid stories we tell ourselves to fill in the blanks.

Set primarily against the raw textures of southern Europe, Sunblind combines nature, the landscape, self-portraiture, and stone sculptures to capture the desire to freeze a memory against the reality of its glitching and fading. Specifics become blown-out, sensory fragments, just like those disorienting moments when light glints blindingly off a surface, and you see nothing but the residue of the thing before you.

The work moves through alternating stages of containment and erosion, often presented in diptychs. Everyday objects — like chicken wire and plastic — are deployed to try to hold on to slipping thoughts. Saturated gels and intentional blur mimic the way memory alters a scene over time, colouring the past with hazy stories instead of data. Amidst sharp light, deep rock fissures, and the busy decay work of insects, these images consider how details crumble, and the mind intervenes to substitute what is lost.

Ultimately, this project is about the onset of absence. Rather than treating the photograph as a reliable document, I use the medium as something inherently fragile and moving toward collapse. Sunblind traces the ache of forgetting, of finding beauty in the evidence of time’s passage, and living within a shifting history.