The Countless Moments That Make Up Waiting Statement Chronic illness and waiting are intimate partners, waiting for tests, for appointments, for insurance to approve a treatment, and for that treatment to start working (or not). 2020 and onward added an additional element of waiting to my experience as a immunocompromised, chronically ill person. I began waiting for Covid-19 cases to drop, waiting to see what public health advice would come out next, waiting for doctors offices to reopen, and waiting to feel safe outside of my own home again. The Countless Moments That Make Up Waiting weaves together daily rituals, markers of time passing, and the stillness of staying in one place. An undercurrent of anxiety and loneliness hangs onto the images, and evidence of chronic illness crops up in the home landscape, peeling back the boundary between private and public spaces. I use images as a journal and a coping mechanism, and also a way to build a deep connection to place within my parent’s home. Relationships are present both with human and more-than-human family members participating in daily rituals and habits. My family shared meals on Sundays, yet during isolation these habits unraveled and became nonspecific to the days on which they occurred. Did we have donuts on Tuesday or on Sunday? Does it matter when no one is leaving the house? Images within The Countless Moments That Make Up Waiting take moments from over two years and situates them within a non-linear narrative. Any moment within the sequence could be from any day, any month during the two years I lived with my immediate family in isolation. That the images were made in Florida, a place with only subtle seasonal shifts, adds to their ambiguity of order. This project is a manifestation of ongoing waiting felt by an immunocompromised person during a pandemic, and a testimony to the ongoing loneliness of chronic illness. The Countless Moments that Make Up Waiting is a story held within a place about the unraveling of time.