My mother — before she was my mother.
It is strange and incredible to think about a person’s life outside of your own relationship with them. Who were we before we met? We go through many seasons in our living time and sometimes they are varied so much they feel like completely different lives.
A less distant past.
The first photo is one taken by my godfather and was *sort of* restored by me (it was torn in half). The 2nd I took a few years ago with a medium format yashica.
One Comment
that 1st photo sucks. poor composition.