![](https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/69bf41fcde7bd828299a03a977f0d4077f1eb7e046f5b10116e69148a87e6bbd/Mother1-PMA.jpg)
![](https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/014076fd847f79df417d094e8428a7fc8cdfaccd853ebcd313bddc88754d0b66/Mother-2-PMA.jpg)
![](https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/6170d849225745a21d64b77e41c7056bdb093fdadd53abf22d206b14f486a21d/savannah-2.jpg)
![](https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/97610aa7c6ba512dfebe7b1bb010d2656b1f84e500761b27f806eac74f4956a2/Museum-small.jpg)
I, like many people, am many things. I am an artist; a woman, a daughter, a sister; and more recently a mother. My two young children have pushed me to see myself as a mother first, but it has come at a cost. I feel invisible in my own life. Invisible to my family, but most of all invisible to myself. I am a mother, slowly slipping away from who I really am. All of this has only been exacerbated by the Covid pandemic, as I am now spending more time than ever devoting myself to my children.
To express this feeling of invisibility, I took photos exploring Hidden Mother Photography, a style of photographs common in the Victorian era, in which young children were photographed with their mothers present, but hidden within the photograph. Hidden under a sheet or blanket, I become a structure, present only for stability and support, entirely devoted to the needs of my others.
This is a work in progress series.