photography's kitchen table


I'm all off-balance. I am drawn repeatedly to Ben, who bats eyelashes and grins and dances without prompting. He's easy pickings. Evan, once that way, is now too cool for me. He runs away, or scowls, or resignedly offers a stiff smile, or goes vacant-faced.

And so these days, it's shot after shot of Ben. I favour him -- with the camera, anyway -- because he's easy. And I mourn the loss of Evan-as-subject. Because he's still so beautiful. I watch him, the thoughtful way he absorbs things, the delight with which he greets the world. But by the time I grab the camera, he's turned into an insolent 13-year-old. MAGIC.

This is all I've gotten in weeks. And a flub, with Ben in the foreground. But you know what? These are my sons, right now. Evan gives sass. Ben gazes, studying, adoring.

And so, click.


Well over sixty fantastic questions came forward for the photography Q&A series I'm going to start here -- I'll begin answering them right away (with a little help from my friends, because it's more fun that way), but not from the posture of expertise. We'll sit at the kitchen table with both our cameras and a couple of cold beer. You ask me what I do, and I'll tell you, and you tell me what you do, and off we'll go.

Unless it's a question about bribing children with cold hard sugar.

I can claim expertise at that.