Photographs as a Love Language

My mum got her first film camera when she was seventeen and spent her university days in Stellenbosch documenting life through its lens.

The day I found that box of negatives, I was thrilled.

One thing of so many we share is a love of documenting.

But there’s something different about looking through her photos—because it’s peering into a world where I was nothing more than a daydream in her mind.

Summers spent camping by the ocean in the ‘80s. Weekends at home on the farm, loving on all the animals. That box of negatives I developed felt like a film unraveling before me, frame by frame, moment by moment.

Through those images, I could see the shifts in her life.

Her first time exploring Europe. The day my brother was born. The subtle yet significant moments where everything changed.

If photographs were a love language, I think they would be mine.

When words fall short, a single frame can capture the love you hold for someone—filtered through your eyes, your perspective, your heart.

A photograph is an invitation. A glimpse into a life, a past, a story, a secret.

They are worlds within worlds—both the subject in the frame and the one behind the lens.

There are so many to share. And they are all so simple.

But maybe that’s why they’re my favourite to begin with.