LAUREN NAKAMURA

Care is reverence — it is holding & being held while our crinkly just-birthed bodies unfurl, expand & inevitably crinkle again as we age and die.

“held” is a most basic map of mother-son-hood, three photos witnessing care that requires softness and surrender, suggesting that the evolution of being held, to holding, to being held again is passed on from caregiver to child across cultures and throughout time.

“may 5th” captures a celebration of my mother & paternal grandmother, who share a birthday (I don’t believe this is a coincidence). They call each other “twin,” which is cute because they’re 40 years and half a world’s ethnicities apart. We customized one cake for grandma & added my mom’s name with rosemary leaves. This oversight — does it mean we care more about grandma? Certainly not, but what is implied when the effort to care in one direction seems to distract from the others? Can care even be compared, or is there a unique and unrankable preciousness to each of its recipients?