‘I still want to have hope’: images inspired by terminal cancer – in pictures

After receiving a diagnosis of stage four lung cancer, Stephen Starkman was determined to document his final days, from hospital wards to calming nature

Main image: From The Proximity of Mortality Photograph: Stephen L Starkman

  • The Proximity of Mortality is about Toronto-based photographer Stephen Starkman’s journey living with stage four cancer. Stephen was diagnosed in 2021 and shared the news with his colleagues at a photography workshop he was taking in the US. One of them suggested he turn his experience living with cancer into a photo book project. He loved the idea and believes that the making of this book over the past year has helped extend his life. Stephen Starkman’s The Proximity of Mortality: A Visual Artist’s Journey Through Cancer is available to purchase now. All photographs: Stephen L Starkman
    The Proximity of Mortality is about Toronto-based photographer Stephen Starkman’s journey living with stage four cancer. Stephen was diagnosed in 2021 and shared the news with his colleagues at a photography workshop he was taking in the US. One of them suggested he turn his experience living with cancer into a photo book project. He loved the idea and believes that the making of this book over the past year has helped extend his life. Stephen Starkman’s The Proximity of Mortality: A Visual Artist’s Journey Through Cancer is available to purchase now. All photographs: Stephen L Starkman

  • Stephen Starkman: ‘Every cancer patient has a story of their diagnosis. Mine came at the end of a long day in a small town Emergency Room. I had begun to feel pain in my left side and headed to the hospital. The CT scan found what was wrong. I went to the ER with a mystery. I came out with a cancer diagnosis. Both my parents had died of cancer – my mom at age 39 and my dad 16 years later. To say I was shocked at my own diagnosis would be untrue, but I was surprised. And angry. Then came one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do: telling my wife and family of the findings’
    Stephen Starkman: ‘Every cancer patient has a story of their diagnosis. Mine came at the end of a long day in a small town Emergency Room. I had begun to feel pain in my left side and headed to the hospital. The CT scan found what was wrong. I went to the ER with a mystery. I came out with a cancer diagnosis.Both my parents had died of cancer – my mom at age 39 and my dad 16 years later. To say I was shocked at my own diagnosis would be untrue, but I was surprised. And angry. Then came one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do: telling my wife and family of the findings’

  • ‘Over time and a battery of tests, it was found I had small cell lung carcinoma, a very aggressive and fast-moving cancer. I started a series of radiation and chemotherapy right away. And I decided to document my life with cancer using my camera. Many images in this book were inspired by that time. The brain fog, the difficulty in vision and taste. Losing my hair. I just knew, no matter what, I had to finish the course of treatment despite the fright and the hope of what the outcome would be’
    ‘Over time and a battery of tests, it was found I had small cell lung carcinoma, a very aggressive and fast-moving cancer. I started a series of radiation and chemotherapy right away. And I decided to document my life with cancer using my camera. Many images in this book were inspired by that time. The brain fog, the difficulty in vision and taste. Losing my hair. I just knew, no matter what, I had to finish the course of treatment despite the fright and the hope of what the outcome would be’

  • Starkman’s work as a photographer over the years prior to this project has taken him around the world – but the images in this book reflect a back and forth play between the immediacy of the universe of the hospital, along with scenes of the everyday and the here and now, of the ‘soon to be lost’
    Starkman’s work as a photographer over the years prior to this project has taken him around the world – but the images in this book reflect a back and forth play between the immediacy of the universe of the hospital, along with scenes of the everyday and the here and now, of the ‘soon to be lost’

  • Starkman’s diagnosis of cancer means he has weeks or months left to live on this Earth. He says that these photographs serve as an invitation to ‘open a conversation on mortality/death as seen uniquely through first-hand experience’
    Starkman’s diagnosis of cancer means he has weeks or months left to live on this Earth. He says that these photographs serve as an invitation to ‘open a conversation on mortality/death as seen uniquely through first-hand experience’

  • Art in its purest form can serve as a bridge to communicate between artist and viewer, and in that process, there can be an expansion of perspectives. This dialogue is an important element of this project for Starkman who says: ‘The book is about life, as seen from the perspective of death’
    Art in its purest form can serve as a bridge to communicate between artist and viewer, and in that process, there can be an expansion of perspectives. This dialogue is an important element of this project for Starkman

  • ‘A few weeks after the conclusion of chemotherapy, a routine scan showed that the cancer had spread to my brain. My understanding is that it is incurable. I have become and remain determined to finish this project. To create new images that reflect what I see and what I feel. To help myself and others express and deal with mortality. These are my images and this is my story – not only of my cancer but also of those who generously shared their own most poignant moments’
    ‘A few weeks after the conclusion of chemotherapy, a routine scan showed that the cancer had spread to my brain. My understanding is that it is incurable. I have become and remain determined to finish this project. To create new images that reflect what I see and what I feel. To help myself and others express and deal with mortality. These are my images and this is my story – not only of my cancer but also of those who generously shared their own most poignant moments’

  • In the book, other cancer survivors reflect on their experience navigating the disease, and reinforce recurring themes of fear, isolation, fatigue and the work of the journey itself. Poems by cancer survivor Joanne Bryce also appear in the book
    In the book, other cancer survivors reflect on their experience navigating the disease, and reinforce recurring themes of fear, isolation, fatigue and the work of the journey itself. Poems by cancer survivor Joanne Bryce also appear in the book

  • In an essay for the book, Jonathan Blaustein – a photographic mentor to Starkman – writes: ‘The antiseptic hospital photographs, alongside the honest, thoughtful quotes from other cancer patients, give the book an unmissable message: ‘Life is short yet filled with moments of wonder’
    In an essay for the book, Jonathan Blaustein – a photographic mentor to Starkman – writes: ‘The antiseptic hospital photographs, alongside the honest, thoughtful quotes from other cancer patients, give the book an unmissable message: ‘Life is short yet filled with moments of wonder’

  • Starkman: ‘This work is about the end of my life. This is expected within the next few weeks or months. It is a visual representation of having cancer, using images that are both documentary and metaphorical’
    Stephen ‘This work is about the end of my life. This is expected within the next few weeks or months. It is a visual representation of having cancer, using images that are both documentary and metaphorical’

  • Through both his photographs and words, Starkman authentically provides the viewer with a small glimpse at the confounding and complex array of emotions that accompany a medical journey such as this
    The cover of Starkman’s book, The Proximity of Mortality: A Visual Artist’s Journey Through Cancer

  • Jasmine, a cancer patient, writes in the book: ‘To say I was scared would be an understatement. I was fearful. I felt hopeless. I did think I was going to die. I felt uneducated – clueless. I had so many questions and no answers’
    Through both his photographs and words, Starkman authentically provides the viewer with a small glimpse at the confounding and complex array of emotions that accompany a medical journey such as this

  • Laura, a cancer patient, writes: ‘No one can ever know, even if they too have had cancer, how you feel. You are alone in your journey, as no one has ever been you, with your unique childhood, your unique personality, your unique coping mechanisms. All anyone can ever be is scaffolding around you. You are alone, no matter how well supported you are. I have learned that I need to be my own scaffolding to deal with my fears’
    He writes of the dichotomies of hope and fear, the physical manifestations of fatigue and brain fog accompanied by a strong pull and need to continue working on this book project

  • Gemma, a cancer patient, writes in the book: ‘I am tired of feeling my feelings. I am tired of feeling like every holiday will be the last. I am tired of these damn voices in my head that I try to fight off on the daily. I am tired of the days where I feel so negative. I am tired of having shitty days’
    The hospital photographs are clean and clinical, a contrast to the magical shots of sunlight, snow and trees. Yet the hospital is also helping to extend Starkman’s limited time left on earth

  • A sunset from Starkman’s home. The nature photographs in this context show the beauty of a world that is soon to disappear from view
    Whereas the nature photographs in this context show the beauty of a world that is soon to disappear from view

  • Starkman writes: ‘My wife, Debi, taught me to live for today. To lock up what’s overwhelming and be in the moment. To live as fully as possible every minute, every hour, every day. However, as always, peeking around the corner is fear – and a clock that’s ticking. And yet, I still want to have hope’
    Starkman writes: ‘My wife, Debi, taught me to live for today. To lock up what’s overwhelming and be in the moment. To live as fully as possible every minute, every hour, every day. However, as always, peeking around the corner is fear – and a clock that’s ticking. And yet, I still want to have hope’
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