When I was first handed my daughter, all I could think of was the cicadas on my front steps when I was a kid, dried up and shaking in the wind. A shell left behind, so that someone else could thrive. I was empty, but when I first held her, I fed her. And for a while, that’s all I could do. Just a cicada and a tree. Two years later, I’m still breastfeeding my child. Outside of childbirth, it has been the most challenging thing I've ever done. Instead of putting language to it, I decided to explore it visually. This is a recollection of my breastfeeding journey, Half Empty.
