Family.

My son, Hank, standing at Sunset Rock overlooking Highlands, North Carolina.
My son, Hank, standing at Sunset Rock overlooking Highlands, North Carolina.
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I've had a hard time writing lately, which isn't the best thing to happen to you shortly after launching a newsletter. That said, I suppose it isn't the worst thing that could happen either. Just ask the public workers who have abruptly, and needlessly, been put out of work lately. Ask the people who are suffering through wars funded by your tax money. Or maybe ask the person without insurance who was just diagnosed with cancer. The list could go on.

Even from the comfort of my privileged American bubble, the world has felt heavy the last couple months, and if you've been paying attention even a little bit, you probably feel a bit disoriented like I do. I actually typed out a lot more about this, citing specific examples of every horrifying thing that has happened, but you've already seen it all, and you probably don't want yet another reminder. I decided to spare us.

I don't intend for this to be a political newsletter, yet art is often political. The daily headlines have an impact on all of us, and artists have always found unique ways to talk about it. The headlines affect me and my ability to write or even think clearly. I admit that it’s difficult for me to focus on much of anything while constantly being bombarded with more insane crap every time I turn around, but to be fair, it’s not like everything was perfect six months ago either. And it wont be in six months, or even six years from now.

Documenting my family is one of my favorite things to do for a variety of reasons, but right now it is helping to reorient myself toward love and positivity. It’s easy to be angry, but I don’t want to be, even if the anger is justified. It’s more important than ever for me to be present in the moment and to be a good example of what strong leadership could look like. I am realizing that this is my personal work. Photographers often talk about their personal work, but maybe that work extends far beyond the camera for many of us. The focus of this newsletter, aside from blabbering on about my wedding/professional photo work, will also be geared toward sharing more about my personal life and that personal work.

My kids, backyard.

A few weeks ago we spent a couple days in Sky Valley, Georgia with my wifes parents who have a timeshare there. We go every year. We love being in the North Georgia mountains and we make it a point to get up that way as often as possible. Getting out of the city from time to time, and beyond the 12 lanes of suburban interstate freeway that only lead to the oversized parking lots that cradle the insipid strip malls that nobody asked for, can be a much welcomed reset. We are always grateful for the opportunity to get away.

Here are a few photos shot on my little Lumix LX10 that I like to carry around. I typically prefer film for personal work, but this thing is so compact and easy to use. And it’s cheaper to shoot! I keep it set to black and white, so here are a few of the black and white jpegs.

I am not sure if this will make sense to everyone who reads it, but it’s difficult for me to remember what life was like before having kids. It feels like they have always been a part of my life, as if they have always existed as a part of me in some way, and maybe that is actually true in some sort of mystical sense. Who knows. Something that I once felt completely unqualified to do now feels natural to me. I want to remember every stage of this journey, and I want them to be able to relive these memories when they are older. Over the next few years I’m expecting plenty of eye rolls from them as I continue to wield the camera at every stage, but several more years down the road, when they're much older, my hope is that that will be appreciative.

So how can I apply my favorite thing about photography to my professional work? Do I even need to? While I do love the actual work that I do, the reality is that, for me, it still feels like work sometimes. Seasons get busy, we fall behind, and the to-do list continues to grow. When it comes to simply documenting my family, the pressure is off. Being present in the moment comes a bit more naturally for me. I am comfortable around them. The photos may not always be the best, at least not in everyone's eyes, but maybe the authenticity is what makes them mean so much to me.

My wife, Jekyll Island, Georgia, 2024. The Yashica Mat 124G is far from the ideal beach camera, but I love the results.

I personally want to approach weddings this way too, and it seems likely that the link between documenting one’s own family and someone else’s family is quite strong. I want to set perfection aside and chase what is real. Whether its my my family or someone else’s, I want to document the big moments and the small moments. I want all of it! A wedding may seem like a big moment (and it is!), but the small moments that take place throughout the whirlwind of the day are often what help to tell the complete story. Whether the client realizes it or not, they are going to want all of it: the hug between distant family members who haven't seen each other in years, grandma spilling wine on herself, the nieces and nephews running through the reception space, the bride and groom taking everything in, dad getting teary-eyed, the priest signing the marriage license, your cousins kid that you barely know sticking his finger in the cake, old friends reconnecting, the pile of high heels next to the dance floor, the cocktails, the food, etc.

While it is easy to be distracted by the chaos of the world around us, especially in this current climate, I am reminding myself to stay present in the moment regardless of where I am or what I am doing. I can't change the past, and I have little control over the future outside of how I handle the present. While this may be easier said than done, striving for this is worth the effort. My family deserves the best version of me. My clients deserve the best version of me. My friends deserve the best version of me. Whoever I am present with in any given moment deserves the best version of me.

I hope you enjoy these photos as much as I enjoyed making them. I'd like for this newsletter to be the primary place where I share my work so that I can spend less time allowing the TechBros to monetize me. Maybe some of the photos will eventually find their way over there, but they'll likely be shared here first. I also appreciate the patience as I figure out exactly how I'd like to use this platform, and how I navigate sharing the broader thoughts that shape my work without upsetting too many you.

I'll leave you with this photo from Hank's first ever baseball game. This season of life probably deserves its own post at some point, but this is currently bringing a lot of joy into my life!

And this is where I am needed most right now.