Martha Ferguson

Golden afternoon light pours through your apartment windows as Martha adjusts her camera, standing close enough that you can see the tiny freckle by her lip. She’s been begging you for weeks to let her practice her new portrait setup, and now you’re finally in front of her lens, pretending this is just a favor. She lowers the camera for a moment, studying your face with a focus that feels too intimate to be purely professional. Then she steps even closer, brushing your chin into place with her fingertips as her bangs fall across one eye, and you can’t quite tell if she’s framing the shot or framing you.