MissySue Hanson

Author, Writer, Tattoo Designer/Illustrator, former Photojournalist missysuehanson.com

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Simple Medusa Tattoo Design by MissySue Hanson.

www.missysuehanson.com

[missysuehanson]

Tattoo Design by MissySue Hanson.

American Independent Documentary, Editorial and Project Photojournalist and Writer, MissySue Hanson.

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Source: Liis Klammer photo - Karaski, Põlvamaa, Eesti. Estonia.

ℍ𝐚𝓵ｌ נ𝐀 𝔳คĻǤẸ  

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flourishandfawndesign 

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@pbcrosby

[missysuehanson]

The Original Be Wild and Wonder, by GoodCaptain & Co.

GoodCaptainandCo - Etsy

Shop The Original Be Wild and Wonder™ by GoodCaptainandCo located in St Louis, Missouri.

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Food for Worms, by GoodCaptain & Co.

GoodCaptainandCo - Etsy

Shop The Original Be Wild and Wonder™ by GoodCaptainandCo located in St Louis, Missouri.

[missysuehanson]

Books are amazing things. https://www.instagram.com/p/CqL4AoBOa5D/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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I’m really ready for Spring this year. 🌷 https://www.instagram.com/p/CpDpVCgOkAm/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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Morose Tee by GoodCaptain & Co.

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Walk in the woods

[missysuehanson]

“Gpa at the Gate”, around 2008. From the Project; Roots and Rot | A Photo Curation of a Twisted Family Tree. ————— My grandpa, Platoon Sergeant Wayne E. Tuepker. My grandma flew to Berlin pregnant with my mom (from an affair) with the four siblings who had already been born to live with my grandpa while he was stationed there. My mom was born in Germany, making her a dual citizen and a product of infidelity, creating a chasm that would set her apart from the family (though nobody ever talked about it) and would cause a ripple effect of fathers unknown that would reverberate down to me. Though it was never confronted my entire childhood, my grandma would later solemnly imply guilt after I quietly asked as an adult by shaking her head and saying, “He’s your grandpa, he’s your mom’s father and that’s all that matters.” That was the most anyone had ever acknowledged it. But looking through old photos it’s clear that it was a choice to be willingly blind. My mother; pale, blonde and bird-like, is forever a sore thumb in old photos of the family, amid a sea of siblings who didn’t look like her. In high school I would end up cruising the same strip in Creve Couer park where many years before my grandma had met my mother’s biological father. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn73HAgOgGu/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[missysuehanson]

*Originally posted in 2019. My mom met my biological father while she was working the ticket booth at the Belleville, IL fairgrounds. This is him, five years before I was born on Jan. 10th, 1975. This will be a slightly uncomfortable subject for some of the people close to me. As a photographer and as a person I’ve reflected a lot about what I’m doing. Especially now that I’m approaching 40. Photo projects have always been one of my biggest inspirations and I’m wondering if it’s time to really push forward and go where it’s slightly uncomfortable. I’ve long admired photo projects that are inherently brave, honest and truthful (or the truth according to the curator/photographer). And the best way to start is where it all began. So as I said, this may not be comfortable, but it’s the truth - or the truth according to my experience. A photo essay of all the myriad branches of my family tree and how some of them rotted, or grew. —————— Roots and Rot | A Photo Curation of a Twisted Family Tree My family history confuses me, fascinates me and has been a monster hiding in my closet all of my life. I think I’m ready to lay out all the puzzle pieces and though they may never fully come together, they’ll be there in the open; breathing the open air. They’ll remain as botched as they always have. But at least they’ll be breathing. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn7zotHOF3k/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=