My Mother's Letters

Hundreds of letters sent to my mother in the late 1950s landed in my lap a year ago. I had to photograph them. The colorful stamps, handwritten addresses, and postmarks on the front of each envelope were beautiful, but I found myself drawn to the quieter back sides, to the gentle signs of aging in each tear or crease or stain. This collection of letters tell a story about my mother, but also about this fading act of letter writing, of words written by hand, on paper, folded, sealed, stamped and mailed, and then received and treasured.