In “project 9,” I am documenting the life of my daughter Luigia, one day at a time, for the entirety of a year from birthday #9 to birthday #10. When I started the project, I envisioned it as an attempt to transcend the two polar opposites in dialogue which people living with Down Syndrome are usually tethered to: the angelic, saccharine, and unmolested soul and the burdensome, unwanted and ultimately pitiable victim. Quickly I realized that in the same way as the process of observation requires much careful attention, the constraint of the daily picture format makes its execution turbulent and challenging. Life was made up of situations, and I was going to have to let go and be flexible with my exigence as a photographer if I was to depict a truthful picture of Luigia. So I learned to sit back and observe. I learned to work in low light situations, I learned more about artificial lighting, I learned to always have my camera ready. But most importantly, I learned to efface myself and let Luigia grow as a subject, I learned take a step back and to let her truth come out. The images in Project 9 are a mosaic of moments with my daughter as the glue, the thread, the central common element. After a year of work, I could not stop so Project 9 morphed into an on-going project. Luigia is now 14 and Project 9 is an on-going daily meditation on the mundane humanity of Luigia, a journey that is more commonplace than not, and whose intrinsic, un-communicated profundity, is a boarder one than one might perceive.