It's Always A Good Idea To Carry The Camera

S & S Body Shop, Richmond, Virginia | December 2025

When I left my home to head to a medical appointment in Richmond, I debated whether or not to bring the camera. It was cold. I was hurrying to get out the door. I had no plans to stop anywhere special along the way. And so the list goes. But I’ve been at this long enough to let experience lead the way . . . and many cherished photos have come from unexpected moments of noticing.

It was icy cold this morning with only a dusting of snow in Fredericksburg. But as I headed south on Interstate 95 toward Richmond, the landscape changed. Glorious morning light on a pristine snowscape. No snow or ice on the roads (thank goodness), just a tunnel of snowy trees lit by golden light. Of course, you can’t pull over on a highway to take a picture, but I made note of the images just the same. Once in Richmond, I was delighted to experience the sweet mix of snow and almost Christmas. Not enough snow to keep folks home or make things too dangerous, but enough to slow everyone down with late openings and extra caution. Just enough snow to put everyone in the Christmas mood.

Core Beliefs

On this snowy day, the first of the season, I rest peacefully in my belief in human goodness and redemption—in virtue and hard work and effort,

however tattered by the hardships of life.

Observing—for longer than you think

  • Start in the same place: by naming what you see. Observe and describe.

  • Add context with additional information. Maybe the title of the picture, the location or date, the photographer’s name, or other context like the weather or the genre of the work. Whatever the new information you’ve added, go back and look at the photograph again.

  • Do not begin to assign meaning to the art, until you have observed the photograph for at least 10 minutes. That’s a long time in the world of Instagram scrolling. But this is how we begin to see our photographs tell stories.

  • Practice slow engagement with the work. Here we begin to interpret the art. I used to worry that my photographs were superficial, that they lacked some secret element that made for pictures that were truly moving. But now I see that there is no secret. Any photograph can be meaningful if we let go of the stories we hold onto, the ones we tell ourselves over and over again, and begin to write new stories based on our observations in the here and now.

“Slowing down our sensory input is essential to processing our experiences into stories. Because when we rush to decide what something means, we’re often not only missing details, but also the opportunity to connect in an authentic way.” —Stephanie Fallon, What Stories Are You Telling Yourself? (And Are They Harming Or Helping You?)