This coming weekend two years ago in California, my friend Jennifer died, a month after turning 40. My heart forever aches for her two young children, as I remember deep in my soul how it felt losing my mother young, to cancer too. It aches for her life cut so short, with much more to give, and for my own loss of an incredible, vibrant, kind, clever, naughty, fun and very special friend.
Over time, I learnt to live without my mother, and I know Jen’s children will too, even if that sounds painful to say in itself. As I got older, I made a choice to remember all the many good times that I had with my mother, more so than the bad at the end of her life. Her whistle as she came cycling through the gate back from grocery shopping or work to let me know she was home, her hand through her hair, her warm, soft hugs and endless kisses, her singing and humming throughout the day, her love of creativity, art, language and travel, home gardening, walking, organic living and baking, her stubbornness and strong opinions. I can’t recall her smell, but I can hear her voice and her rippling, loud laughter and as I write this, I know that those that know me well will recognise what I recognise too – that I am in a lot of ways my mother!
These memories comfort me, and when I think of my partner and children I know that in a way, through me, they also get to somehow know a little of the grandparents that they never got the chance to meet. In the way that my parents get to live a little longer through me, its my hope that Jen’s children will come to feel a similar way about their mum.
And so it is, that on the anniversary of Jen’s death I choose to celebrate and reflect on the good times we had together. Last year, my daughter and I created a landscape series of photographs from a long weekend on Bruny Island. This year, I have searched through my blog archives from our years in San Francisco, and found the post from the day Jen and I took a trip down the back streets of the grungy, edgy, artful Mission District where she hung out when she was in her 20s, to capture her in a series inspired by her recent hair cut, which she rocked like the true super star she was. It was an opportunity to just hang out together in the sun, forget about the realities and challenges of daily life for a few hours and capture her joyful, very beautiful and completely hilarious personality.
I ended up making an album of about 15 images from the series, that her children and family now have in their possession, which captures their mum, daughter, sister and wife, on what was a happy and very special day for her in the sunshine of San Francisco, her home turf.
As always, Jen – love you more!
2015 Blog post from the Christina Nielsen Fotografi Archives:
Portrait – Jennifer Tomasco Burke, San Francisco. A morning in SoMa’s Langton Street.
The one that cracks me up until tears stream down my cheeks. The one that listens to my endless stories, anecdotes and details until her ears bleed. The one that tells me the truth with kindness and helps me with her smile and words of support when I need it. The one – my kickass, beautiful friend, Jen!
This project came about last year, when Jen cut her hair short and I, as a result, fell completely in love with her hairstyle AND her all over again!
The alleyway I chose for the shoot was Langton Street, in the very heart of SoMa. It is situated between a favourite sandwich shop,Ā DeliboardĀ on Folsom Street, and the veryĀ awesome SF coffee roastery,Ā SightglassĀ on 7th. It owns the sun in the mornings, and it’s wall art and textures were a perfect match for my portraits showcasing Jen’s new hairstyle.
To you, my friend – love you more!
CHRISTINA NIELSEN FOTOGRAFI 