Elena Dahl


Mornings (2), 10.5×13 inches, Archival inkjet print

Every morning for six weeks, my mother lay underneath a custom-molded mask while a beam of radiation targeted and slowly destroyed a tumor in her neck. During each session of external beam radiation therapy, she made images in her mind. She related these visions to me and I began photographing and photo-montaging what I imagined they looked like. A sunlit backyard, a storm coming, a net cradling this storm. A violet bed with flowered sheets or a flowerbed. Grass rising and decapitated weeds, the Aurora Borealis illuminating her spine. In the first image in the series, her makeup is impressed upon the interior of the mold, reinforcing its function, while other images extend the form into new, more fantastical situations.