I've been photographing my grandmother, Livia, since my grandfather died in 2009. Before it was a story of her transitioning to a life without him. I took pictures because I felt like it was an important personal story, but mostly to help pass all of the time I, along with the rest of my family, was spending with her.
Since moving home in November, I spend a lot more time with her and I've been photographing regularly to, again, help pass the time. I don't know if there's much of a story to tell any more. Her life is insanely repetitive. Due to her lack of mobility, the most activity she gets is eating and getting driven around town in her car, which she almost never gets out of. Other than that, she sits in one of three chairs in her house, alternating throughout the day to give herself something to do. And she sits there... all day, wearing the same sweater, going in and out of sleep. She refuses to even attempt any activity, embarrassed about her walker, bladder and hearing loss - which has reached a point where basic communication is nearly impossible. Her severe amount of general anxiety also adds to her refusal to be more active.
She makes me more frustrated than anybody else and tests my patience with every visit. But I'll continue to take pictures (even though I have to be sneaky about it, which doesn't help with the lack of visual variety) because I need something to entertain myself while she drinks beer, eats french fries, insults me and falls asleep.
