Unfulfilled

A longing for proximity, which was not and can no longer be transferred through all the shades of the pink, in the project of the photographer Lyubov Rakshina

My mother was very fond of pink. So much so that she could put me entirely, up to socks and hairpins, into the clothes of all his shades. She said: this is a color for girls, and even if I do not want to put it on, I’ll wear it anyway, because "you are a girl." She also wanted me to wear dresses and skirts, smile at everyone and be comfortable. As a child, I tried to match her expectations in order to earn love.

There was no proximity between us, because when I was born, my mother worked and studied at the same time, my dad worked - and they gave me up to education to my grandmother. The proximity in the family was understood as "he eats well, on vacation we carry her on vacation, dress in pink dresses."

When I became a teenager, resentment appeared at each other. Mom did not suit me, I did not suit her, we argued a lot and never talked heart to heart. Then I grew up and completely stopped matching her expectations - she was disappointed.

This spring I decided to study the relationship between me and my mother, to reveal them through the photo and her favorite pink color. I chose pictures from the archives by color (it was not difficult: in almost all children's photographs I in pink outfits) and recalled my childhood experiences at that moment. For example, when my mother hugs me and smiles in the photo, and a second after the frame she is cold with me and pushes me away. I wanted to unite myself small and real with my mother, artificially bring us closer now - at least through the photo.

Photo: Lyubov Rakshina

Work on the project lasted three months. After the work was finished, I felt relief, almost euphoria - from the fact that I could express everything that I wanted.

Of the entire series, I like two works most. One - where a chain from my children's photographs stretches from my mother’s bouquet, and the other - where my hand is extended to my mother, holding me a small one. In the first photo, my mother holds a bouquet and does not suspect that I will appear to her very soon - and so many moments: both good and not very. On the second, I hold out of my hand, hoping to feel warm - my mother is young, and I was only born, there are no expectations and unspoken, only warm between us.

Photo: Lyubov Rakshina

Mom died three years ago, and there will be no more proximity between us, although I could be, because I have grown up and I have less offense at my mother. Now that I put on pink, I always remember her - only with light sadness. Now this color has become a guide for me in her world, helping to move longing easier. Through this color, I analyze our relationship, create that deep connection and proximity, which actually did not happen.

Photo: Lyubov Rakshina Photo: Lyubov Rakshina Photo: Lyubov Rakshina Photo: Lyubov Rakshina Photo: Lyubov Rakshina Photo: Lyubov Rakshina Children of the mother