The "Barry Seib Project"
Barry Seib (December 8, 1954 - June 20, 2005)
When faced with an illness or a life changing challenge, photography is often the last thing on someone's mind. In the spring of 2005, when our family first learned that my Uncle Barry had developed terminal cancer, life had become so overwhelming that even I, a photographer, missed the opportunity to capture a few last photos of my uncle. I had hoped to take some family portraits to remember him by, but in the whirlwind of grief and confusion time flew by faster than I had imagined. At the time I didn't realize how much those pictures would have meant to us today.
Shortly after my uncle's death, I learned that a close friend had also developed cancer. Having recently gone through the experience with my uncle, I knew how valuable pictures during this time could be. When my friend overcame her illness, these simple portraits took on a powerful role: they became a part of her healing process. She looks at them now as a reminder of the pain she endured, and also as a badge of honour of what she has overcome.
When I realized how powerful these simple pictures can be, I decided to start a project in my uncle's memory, offering pictures free of charge, to people going through difficult times. It is my hope that these pictures will bring you healing and joy. It is up to you what you would like to document. Some want to remember the time before the sickness set in as a beautiful memory of their life before; others, like my friend, found healing and release in taking pictures during the most difficult time in her life.
Because these sessions can be very vulnerable, I value the privacy of my clients and do not use their pictures for any advertising or display in the galleries. Thank you for your understanding.
I am only able to accept a limited number per season. So, please, contact me. I'd love to discuss how I may be able to offer some support during your difficult time.
"I didn't have any idea when I had those pictures taken how much I'd appreciate them later. They are a tangible reminder, something I can hold and see. My whole experience, including losing my unborn child and then it progressing into cancer, was a long period of intense grief. I took these pictures after my first chemo session. My face was covered in sores and I felt awful. It wasn't the picture perfect time to take pictures, but it expressed all the pain I was feeling inside. Now those pictures are a tangible reminder of where I was and how far I've come. " - Anonymous