A couple of nights ago, we tiptoed down to the almost completed studio. I wanted to test lens length in the space, so asked kids to stand in. Didn't have a single light set up, no backdrop: just my new space, natural light in the evening in the rain. This is the result. Back of camera, as unedited as it comes.
In the tumbling chaos, the confusion, the isolation, the anger…
A moment by stillness. Toes muddy and cool. Tranquility and exhalation.
I watch her grow into her gracefulness. She seems to have a wisdom about all of this that I desire. She beams still over inconsequential moments. She radiates contentment while I struggle.
Have you heard of the syndrome, “Photographer’s Child?” It’s murmured frequently in my profession. Because we love our built in test-subjects, and they too soon are “over it.” So I make a point to insist that they permit me to take our family portrait once a year, and try otherwise to leave them alone.
Ah-ha! Reverse psychology! Now, every time I have a client come, they beg me to take their picture, too.
So we tromped into the backyard. I had to coax her into the mud by the creek. Her dress originally was purple. Her shirt was a vibrant turquoise. My daughter asked if we could print it for her room. My son also wants a print of himself for his room, though he was satisfied with our last studio session:
Yes, Little Man is in his pajamas.
We met during this shoot, and hit it off: so much so, that at her gallery design appointment, she invited me to travel with her to the other side of the world - and I accepted! I meet clients so that they can tell their story- in their home, and to future generations. Sometimes, I get to become a part of their story, and them, mine.
A picture from our trip to Israel!!:
We might have had a little fun:
