<sup>With the intention of discovering a subject that might emerge through the exploration of my hometown, I began documenting the house where I grew up and the town where I was born. Rather than imposing a predetermined narrative, I actively searched for a theme to reveal itself. It soon became clear that death and grief were the undeniable core subjects.

The sound of a car driving through the city, announcing the latest obituary notices and funeral times over a loudspeaker, has always been familiar to me. The community's relationship with death is embedded in many of the photographs—images of places and objects imbued with a deep sense of loss. The covers of family photo albums recur throughout the series, serving as an archive of faded memories. Through this process, I found myself confronting something I had postponed for over two decades: grieving my father's death.

This is how We Were What You Are came into being.

The act of photographing, together with the shelter provided by the lens, finally allowed me to begin a process I had long repressed—one I had been unable to confront because of the complexity of these emotions. Approaching them through photography reconnected me with the act of seeking refuge in art, a practice that was integral to my childhood and one of the few memories that remain.

Confronting people, stories, and memories that have always been present yet kept at a distance has since become a central methodology in my photographic practice.</sup>