"I Remember The Sun" comes from a vulnerable place. They’re self-portraits shot in my bedroom. After going through a flu, a canceled flight back home and a gynecological procedure, all of that happening during Covid-19 quarantine time in New York City, a place that doesn’t have enough holes to bury dead bodies in and is running on maximum capacity, I needed to be with myself. Accepting that you might not always feel joyful and don’t need to stay positive in a scary time, that you can feel fear and uncertainty, has been liberating for myself. It felt right to go back to a place within myself and create anything with the resources my space has given me.

Every day the sun would shine through my bedroom window around four o’clock in the afternoon I’d start photographing, even if I wasn’t in the mood. Sometimes just showing up for yourself like you would be for clients is good enough. I’d lie down in a way where I could see pieces of the sky and just started remembering moments, I’d think back to my mum’s house. Every little detail came back, the door handle, the smell of our chimney mixed with jewish food, fresh out of the oven. The sound of the wind chime hanging on the door and the rug grandma gifted us before I was even born. As a child I had always wished for one superpower: teleportation, so I could go wherever I wanted.

It felt like the closest I could get to teleportation. Playing with the sun was the only time that made life feel normal, because, no matter the sun will always rise and set. So, I remembered the sun.