Self portrait using projection. The original photo shows my family gathered for my aunt's nameday in 1990 (4 years before my birth). From the left: my half-sister (who now lives in the US and whom I see once a year), my mom (who now lives alone), my uncle (who passed away), my aunt (who, always very sociable, now ceased throwing parties on account of taking care of my 95-year old grandmother), my father (with whom I talk quite rarely) and my dog (who passed away).
Me and my father on my 5th birthday. I was practically raised by my mother and my father was not very involved in my upbringing. He tried to "buy-in" with presents and activities that my mother disapproved of. When I was younger he gave me video games and Barbie dolls, but when I grew up, he allowed me to drink and smoke - things I could never do in front of my mother
I was born when my parents were 40 and no longer together while my siblings were entering adulthood. Conflict was ubiquitous in my childhood. Looking at my family portraits, however, I succumb to the illusion of happiness and bliss.
Trying to enact dreams of time travel, I question the finiteness of photography, "entering" family photos with the use of projection. I take on a triple role: of the operator, spectator and subject - and in a therapeutic way, I seize control of the crucial fragment of my familial archive, spanning through the 90s. By updating photos that I did not take, I redefine my family history, all the while creating an extensive self-portrait. I cover the past with the present and vice versa, materializing myself both there and here.