“I became a mother and stopped sleeping through the night,” Sierra writes. “Years go by, the child sleeps soundly in his bed, but I still wake at every noise. My father comes to live with us, and all of a sudden, I am a mother to everyone.”
Her images—moody, saturated, and almost otherworldly—explore the often invisible terrain of caregiving: the joy, the fear, the exhaustion, the unspoken love. The series is layered with symbolism, dreamlike narratives, and emotional tension, capturing moments that feel pulled from the subconscious.
Whether it’s a child wrapped in shadows or a figure bathed in quiet morning light, every frame tells a story of what it means to care deeply for someone else—even at the cost of your own rest, your own time, your own body.
The Witching Hour is not just about motherhood—it’s about what it means to stay awake while others sleep, to carry the weight of generations, and to find strange beauty in the in-between hours when the world is quiet but your mind is racing.
