Knotted String

My three sons arrived wilder than I expected, in spirit and in mind. They resisted every form of control and could not be tamed. I wasn’t prepared, so I picked up the camera. It gave my hands and my mind something to do while I learned how to be their mother, and it gave me a way to stay near at a distance. They seemed to need nothing from me but room. The photographs became the record of that — of boys running ahead and a mother a few steps behind, still looking.