It hardly crosses my mind anymore, though perhaps it should.

I’ve grown accustomed to the discrepancy in size between my right and left breasts. I pay no mind to the little scar. The doctor appointments and mammograms are only yearly now, and breast cancer is a distant memory. But 12 years ago this month, at the age of 44, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Caught early, the only treatments required were a lumpectomy, 6 weeks of radiation, and 5 years of the medication Tamoxifen. Small prices to pay for this sweet life.

It seems fitting today, as I reach the two-thirds mark of this yearlong photography practice, to revisit just why photography is like medicine for me.

"It sounds too simple to be true, but to practice your medicine is to do the thing that you do well. When you do that thing you do, it heals every one of us. It is part of why you are here, the unique soul fire that you bring to this time. And the gift you have to share is likely part of your deepest wounding, some initiation that you have survived. You have certainly made it through some kind of hell and you can show us how you did it, help us along, allow us to learn from your experience." –Gerri Ravyn Stanfield
Day 243

Day 243