When I look at one twin I automatically look at the other. When I talk to one twin I think of how the other would respond. Their similarities, and equally their differences, have fascinated me since their birth. They began mirroring each other as infants. I was always taking pictures, enraptured in wonder. Now as young teenagers, as they begin to search for their independence and individuality, I continue to photograph, both in the role of a photographer and as a mother.

The sessions usually begin with interactions of silliness. They ignore the camera. I demand that they pose. I notice that they unconsciously support each other. They seem to become one person. And after a few clicks of the camera they demand their promised payment for the session.

In these photographs I look to challenge them and equally they challenge me. The locations and poses are staged. Their final gestures and gaze into the lens is where the authenticity is found. The lens that stops time and demands a deeper explanation.

I use art to own my identity; a religious widow compelled to enter the broader world. I demand to be seen differently both within and outside my community. Possibly looking to unite the two sides of myself. At the center of that journey I point the lens at myself as I continue to create new dialogues with love and loss.