It was a Sunday in Montreal.It was rainy and cold. We decided to go down a few back alleyways but to be honest nobody was really around.Magic happens for god knows what reason in photography but all of a sudden I saw Sue standing by this doorway and quickly pulled the car over.She was small,smaller than expected.She spoke broken english with a heavy French accent.The first words were “I am just trying to get money for my eye surgery”.Her left eye was running pretty bad and she kept having to wipe away the fluid with a dirty rag.I knew she was working but I really didn’t understand why she felt the need to explain herself to a complete stranger holding a camera,but then it hit me.It was mothers day and as I raised my camera I noticed the number on the wall was also my birthday.My heart began to beat a bit faster as I pushed the shutter.Did she have a mothers guilt? And me a sons remorse? Too many feelings to explain from my childhood.I gave her some money and she smiled.I never really regained my composer.I went back to the hotel and called my mom.I never told her I took the saddest photo of a prostitute (and probable mom) on mothers day.I don’t know why this one hit so hard.But it did.
Leica M240,35mm lens
© Nikki Sixx Photography