It’s too elusive for me. And it sounds so shallow.

Humans, especially women, in my opinion, are so much more complex beings than we think we are. Yet we want to risk very little, and end up saying easy things, like, “my mother is my inspiration”.

It’s easy to say. I hear it all the time. But when you live a life, there are times we truly have to risk something when we see something uneasy.

And in my case, it was my mother.

my mother and I also share a quite personal one.

I broke up with her twice. She broke up with me more than twice. Or at least that’s how I felt.

We went through so much, but we did not do it together. We did it separately and I was always lonely. I thought I was the misfortune one; deprived of affection.

But lately, I realized something;

Maybe I was all wrong.

Maybe it was her who was deprived of affection.

Maybe it was her who was lonely.

My mother often talks about flowers.

She adores them, though she doesn’t know how to admit it.

The world is often unkind to vulnerability, and my mother is a victim of it.

Maybe that’s why I take pictures of flowers.

To photograph what it feels like to be her daughter.

When I take photographs of flowers, each click feels like someone is tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, just like my mother did it to me when I was a child.

My fascination over flowers stems deeply from my mother.

Photographing them helped me to look closer, because there are always untold stories that are waiting for me to take thier picture.

I look at the flowers as the same way she used to look at me.

She adored me, but she wasn’t sure how to show it. I was too young and naive to understand her conflicts back then, and only recently, I’m starting to notice her complexity.

I think so. But it just doesn’t sounds right.

To me, she is my reason.

My root from the ground.

And I just only started to sprout.

Wanting to blossom,

just like her.

And when I finally blossom, I hope I look just liker her.

She’s the most beautiful flower I have ever photographed.