It is the quiet moments that make up a woman's day: lighting the first

fire, brushing a child's hair, washing dishes, hunting for wood in the

forest.  At first glance, these repeated gestures can appear

meaningless.  A rich tapestry is revealed when such events are woven

together.  A soup bowl is filled, washed and put away.  Noodles are

deftly rolled out, cut and consumed.  A floor is swept and swept

again.

These are the fleeting moments I seek in my photographs.  So often

women are lost in their daily domestic tasks and, as a woman, I wanted

to pay a small homage to them.  In their homes, evidence of a woman's

hand is everywhere: a piece of lace hangs over a tattered cabinet, a

tapestry covers over a hole in the wall, and cups and dishes are

stacked neatly in a cabinet.

In my effort to document the lives of Roma women in Slovakia, I

discovered that I had much to learn.  There are mysterious nuances

involved in cooking over a wood-burning stove, bathing in a tin tub,

and washing clothes by hand.  Quietly and as unobtrusively as

possible, I endeavored to disappear into the fabric of family life.

Graciously, these women opened their homes to a stranger and it was my

great privilege to spend time with them.

Closely entwined with women are the lives of their children.  Children

are always underfoot demanding attention and much of a woman's day is

spent devoted to their care.

For children, everything is an adventure.  From the moment they tumble

out of bed, children spend their days hunting for wild berries,

dancing, playing hopscotch, and throwing rocks.  And as they grow, the

responsibilities of adulthood slowly begins to weigh upon them.  The

older among them care for younger brothers, sisters and cousins.  A

walk in the forest becomes a hunt for wood, a search for food.

After the fire is out, dishes are put away, and children are in bed,

there are a few hours of rest before it all begins again.