Portraits of my mother in Namibia – Kamperett

I have a merciless urge to capture moments in time, as if doing so will preserve the beauty of a memory and make it accessible forever.

Ute Chiu (my mom) wearing the Iris Gown and Caroline Slip Dress in crimson silk in the dunes of Namibia.

This summer, I took my family to visit my aunt in Namibia, a trip I had been dreaming of until our three boys were old enough to remember, endure and enjoy. My mom, dad, and sister came too, and the eight of us piled into a van to experience this stunning country together with my aunt Bärbel as our local guide.

I had a vision of our newly designed Iris gown, the crimson silk chiffon blowing in the wind, set against the sand dunes and blue sky, so I packed the gown and a camera to see if I could bring the image in my head to life.

My mom has never enjoyed being in front of the camera, but she has always supported my ideas (whether good or bad), so she kindly agreed to let me photograph her in one of the most beautiful deserts in the world.

To me, she has always embodied a pure, natural beauty: the effortless, confident kind that both disarms and charms you. She taught me to lead with my heart, follow my gut, carve my own path, be spontaneous, and notice the endless beauty around us every day. She is the kindest, most generous, resilient, and intuitive person I know.

She is my muse for aging gracefully.

These grainy, unedited images, marked by airport x-rays, are a result of my lack of proper knowledge of how to use a camera, but what I was compelled to capture was the colors of the sand and sky, movement of the dress, and my mom's essence. I was initially so upset they were overexposed, damaged, and blurry, but then began to embrace them as embodying the feeling and soul that I was attempting to capture.

I wanted to share with you these amateur images that my family and I had so much fun creating together, in hopes that it might inspire you to also embrace the imperfect and creating things just for the fun of it. Things don't always have to be so polished and "professional".

The experience alone was a gift I will cherish forever.