A few years ago, in the wake of the #metoo movement, I posted a lengthy blog post outlining painful experiences from my past. A few weeks later, a bolt of nausea and shakiness struck when one of my perpetrator's faces flickered through a photograph of my younger son. They looked so much alike that they could be brothers. My son could become HIM.

Our cultural response to male behavior is often, “boys will be boys.” While I frequently witness my sons as sensitive and sensual beings, I also see a more aggressive side surface from time to time. As their mother, I struggle with this behavioral dichotomy and decided that I wanted to document the tension I feel in regards to their nature. Taking cues from religious myth and iconography, these photographs follow my sons at play in a verdant, Eden-like world. They portray the boys as I believe them to be - holy (yet flawed) creatures, showcasing the lust that I have for them - for their youth, for their glow, and for their fading innocence. At the same time, my own jaded lens casts a shadow. For I am a mother who has reason to mourn this passing season of boyhood, and I fear what lies ahead.

** I am currently in the process of developing a book which includes these photographs alongside text and archival imagery. It takes a deeper dive into my personal history - specifically my experience with men - and how it influences the way I see and photograph my two sons.