In celebration of Parkinson’s Awareness Month, Wall Space Gallery presents a reflective dialogue with photographer Kelly McDonald, exploring her evolving practice and lived experience with Parkinson’s disease.
There is a quiet intensity to McDonald’s work, particularly in her botanical photographs. Dried stems, fading petals, and delicate textures become meditations on fragility and transformation. Her images invite stillness, carrying a deeply personal resonance while speaking to universal experiences of change and endurance.
Below, McDonald speaks with gallery curator Haruka Toyoda about her journey, her art, and the ways her perspective has evolved over time.
Toyoda: How did you first realize something was changing in your body, and what was that experience like before your Parkinson’s diagnosis?
McDonald: In my late 30s, I started experiencing pain in my back and muscle stiffness. I also noticed that I often felt exhausted. I now know these were early signs of Parkinson’s disease. In my early 50s, I noticed a tremor in my right pinky finger. I thought maybe I was knitting too much, but then I noticed stiffness throughout my right side.
Initially I was told I likely had Fibromyalgia, and my treatment was based on that diagnosis. But I wondered if it might be Parkinson’s. Just before my father passed, he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Since about 15 percent of people with Parkinson’s have a family history of the condition, that may explain some of what I felt.
Toyoda: What went through your mind when you finally received your Parkinson’s diagnosis?
McDonald: I actually felt relieved, because at one point it was thought that I might have had a stroke. It was good to have a definitive diagnosis. I finally knew what I would be dealing with.
By the time I was diagnosed, my right side was changing greatly. I had hand and foot tremors, my writing had become very small, my voice was often soft, and my limbs were stiff. These are all signs of Parkinson’s.
Along with the diagnosis came uncertain questions about my future. At the time, I was about to begin the photography diploma program at SPAO. Could I still do it? The diploma had long been a goal of mine, and I wasn’t going to let Parkinson’s stop me. It didn’t. I completed the program, and that felt like a meaningful decision.
Toyoda: What does living with Parkinson’s look like for you day-to-day, both physically and creatively?
McDonald: Physically and mentally, no two days are the same. Some days, no two hours are the same. Some days bring extreme stiffness, brain fog, and fatigue. Other days I feel almost normal for a few hours. I’ve noticed that weather can affect me.
Creatively, mornings are the best. I have energy and clarity then. When I create, I forget that I have Parkinson’s. I become fully focused and present. Creating is when I feel most like myself.
Toyoda: Your work often features botanicals and textures. How did you arrive at this visual language to express your experience with Parkinson’s?
McDonald: I’ve always been drawn to botanicals, so when I began photographing them, it felt natural. Over time, I started looking beyond their surface beauty. I began reflecting on their life cycles and how they mirror my own.
There is beauty in their prime, of course, but there is also a quiet grace in their transformation and decay. That perspective gradually became part of my work.
Toyoda: Can you talk about the role of materials, like washi paper, in your work?
McDonald: I see washi paper as a protective shroud for my images. It softens the photographs and mirrors the fragility of the botanicals I capture.
Toyoda: Has your approach to photography changed as your body and perspective have evolved?
McDonald: My earlier enthusiasm meant I photographed almost everything. Now, with more limited energy, I am more selective. My practice has become contemplative. Botanicals are brought into the studio with care, each photograph created with intention and presence.
Toyoda: How does your experience with Parkinson’s influence the way you see the world and your subjects?
McDonald: I live more in the moment now. My days are uncertain, so patience and presence have become essential. I am also more aware of others’ struggles, and I appreciate the ability to create despite the challenges of Parkinson’s.
Toyoda: What do you hope people take away from seeing your photographs?
McDonald: I hope viewers sense the peace and calm present while the images were created. I also hope they gain a deeper understanding of Parkinson’s and the ways it affects daily life.
Toyoda: For Parkinson’s Awareness Month, what message do you want to share with audiences?
McDonald: Parkinson’s is not only a disease of older adults, and it is not only about tremors. The symptoms vary widely. Each person’s experience is unique.
Toyoda: What do you wish more people knew about living with Parkinson’s
McDonald: The non-motor symptoms are often more difficult than the visible ones. Loss of smell, sudden anxiety, insomnia, swallowing difficulties, and chronic pain are common but often unseen.
Toyoda: How does creativity help you face these challenges?
McDonald: Creativity is a refuge. I have a personal ritual—prayer, candles, music, and solitude. Being alone while shooting allows me to enter a light space where I can forget, even briefly, that I have Parkinson’s.
Toyoda: Are there new projects you are excited to explore?
McDonald: I’m incredibly excited about “Nocturnus”, an exploration of botanicals that bloom at night. It will incorporate the concept of “The Dark Night of the Soul,” a phase of passive purification. Nighttime activity resonates with my own sleep disturbances and the quiet, hidden world that emerges in the dark hours.
Kelly McDonald’s photographs invite viewers to trace the delicate textures and fleeting forms that populate her frame. In these images, the quiet presence of life with Parkinson’s emerges not as spectacle but as an intimate meditation, a recognition of vulnerability, transformation, and the enduring strength found within fragility.
