“Once your parents pass away, you realise you’re next in line”, I once was told. It seemed likely, but it didn’t really concern me – I was only 13 years old. Even today my grand-mothers are still alive, so “next in line” should logically not be on my mind yet. But life is rarely logical. My father was diagnosed a year ago with terminal cancer at the tender age of 64. His unescapable illness and his impending death changed everything. I saw my father’s pain, my girls’ as well, and I felt my own. My series Blood Line was conceived a few months after that. I photographed my daughters, my flesh and blood, his descendants. He experienced, I processed, they embody.

Terminal illness turned our lives upside down. But I find it also affected communication and identity. When I was with my dad, he and I knew his days were counted. I was able to say things I might not have shared before, but I also found myself withholding other thoughts. My version of reality and truth shifted. Blood Line illustrates that language becomes coded and that our sense of Self morphs.

I’m a parent like any other, snapping iPhone pictures of birthday cakes and school shows, big events and little nothings. I had briefly photographed my eldest daughter in my previous project, Locked-in. But it is the first time that I created a substantial body of work with both girls. Never before have I felt more a mother as well as a photographer in the same 1/125th of a second.

I had expected some feet-dragging but the girls are actually very invested in Blood Line. I knew what I wanted and they were also very clear about what they were willing to do. And they cared beyond modeling. The youngest would sometimes make set suggestions, I called her my mini art director. Her sister liked to see me choose the final frames. She has a talent in recognising “the right picture” and would make for a terrific editor. I photographed them on average 20 minutes per week; sometimes we worked on consecutive days, but we could also go a month without shooting. Occasionally, watching a YouTube video took priority over my desire to create, and that’s fine too. They are kids and I could wait a day. Hence, collaborating with them has been both enriching and lovely.

So much of my work is about the conceptual – highlighting some universal red threads throughout what otherwise is a very personal experience. But my then 9 years old once stated gravely “This work is important.”. I thought it endearing but she was extremely serious. It matters to her because it is about her grand-father. And her comment made me understand that beyond the mother who loves and raises them and the artist who photographs them, I am also the literal link between my father and my daughters; and so is Blood Line. A year later, my Dad is gone. And when I am too, the work will still be there connecting us all.”