Last year my sister lost her long battle for her life. To ease the pain of the loss I turned to my work. I started photographing the objects connecting just the two of us. Looking at them now all I could think about are the numbers. Hours, years, dates, birthdays, celebrations, numbers, numbers, numbers.
How old we were on this old photo?
- 5 and 7. Look, here is a little scribble by our aunt at the back, the year is 1961.
How many volumes left from our family’s Chekhov 12-volume set?
- 10. Why? Only we knew why only 10.
How many unanswered text messages to her I still have on my phone?
- Many. Only I know how many.
- Pair, 3, 2, 9 and 40, 56, 58, 07.23.2012.