When my mother gave birth to my half-sister Erica, I was twenty years old. Sitting in the hospital room with my camera, she made giving birth look easy. I photographed as Erica made her way into the world, cut her umbilical cord myself, and was the very first to hold her. In that moment, I gave her a name she inevitably didn't get to keep. And she peed on me.
Ever since, having a much younger sibling has given me the unique experience of observing the way in which I may have been raised. Photographing Erica has become a window into my own elusive childhood.