Art, Postpartum, Pandemic: A Journey through My Neighborhood and Beyond

All intertwined: art, postpartum, pandemic, my neighborhood, and a foreign country. These elements merge seamlessly within my thoughts, my story, and my collection of photographs.

Amidst the backdrop of my neighborhood in Vancouver, Canada, a series of pictures were captured during a pivotal period of my life. At that time, my daily 30-minute walks became my shelter from the demands of motherhood and the confines of lockdown. Symbolically and physically, they provided me with a necessary breather.

Through these walks, I witnessed that the world outside my home continued to evolve, despite the stagnation within its walls. Seasons transitioned, the sun set below the horizon, the snow melted, and leaves fell.

Inspired by these excursions, I began carrying my camera or phone, using photography as a form of meditation. Through this creative outlet, my mind would wander and dream. These walks prompted me to enroll in my first photography class, open an Instagram page, and articulate through writing the thoughts that occupied my mind.

Within these pictures lies a chronicle of my life—a foreign country, an unfamiliar body, and a strange world, both within and outside of me.

My neighborhood, although carrying the marks of the pandemic, showed subtle traces of humanity and vitality: masks left behind, signs outlining COVID policies, open gates, nature taking over left-behind spaces, and words of encouragement for whoever needed them.

It all coexisted in a peculiar contrast—lifeless from the effects of lockdown and closed parks, yet vibrant through the lens of nature and my own artistic expressions. In some of these photographs, my own reflection is evidence that humanity persevered.

These walks became an unintentional two-year journey, inadvertently capturing my son's growth from the sidelines. Life carried on, and it was through art that I found solace. Art rescued a side of me that had momentarily slipped from view. Motherhood became a rebirth, while the streets, the neighborhood, and the country witnessed my personal journey, just as I witnessed theirs.