For awhile now I've been working on an ongoing series about iconography and everyday spiritual life, entitled Women with Icons. The series is difficult; each portrait is of a completely different person, whom I may or may not have met, and the conditions under which I photograph are quite various. Each time I am forced to find a new approach to the subject--a new angle, a new conversation, a new connection.

Caroline's portrait was no different. In fact, it was probably one of the most difficult portraits I've done in awhile. I shot it on a lovely afternoon in June; she invited me to her home to meet her lovely son and husband, and we went to a few neighborhood spots to wander around and enjoy the weather. The shoot went well, and I came home with plenty of material.

But that's when my problem arose: indecision. I sat on the few portraits I had singled out as ones that I had liked--sat on them for months on end. It has only been in these past few weeks, after what feels like decades of "living with" these images that I feel I could finally bring the single image of Caroline and St. Nina to light.

I chose this image from among others for a variety of reasons. Caroline is smiling and looking outward, revealing her eager and observant personality. She is relaxed--leaning against the metal grate, which has a harsh texture, but a regular pattern. The icon stands out well against the dark background, and is cradled gently in her hands. I think it is the gesture and simplicity that drew me to this particular pose, and I hope I have captured something precious of both the saint and believer.