Lucky

If you are lucky enough to know in any given moment that you are loved and seen and accepted, lucky enough to know what it’s like to be loved even when you are unlovable . . . reach out your hand, wrap your arms around them and whisper, I love you more than you can know. My husband knows that I will always make a beeline to photograph any compost pile of discarded flowers. I will walk right past the perfect petals and spend 30 minutes photographing those that are past their prime. The older I get, the more this practice feels like a gift. I am lucky and wise enough to know this truth as I live it.

Gleaning

This time of year . . . when the light leaves early.

I think we’ve confused having access to inspiration with actually being inspired. We can see more beautiful things in ten minutes than most people could’ve encountered in a year not that long ago. Which is extraordinary. It’s also a little exhausting. At some point you stop looking closely because there’s always another image waiting underneath the one you’re looking at. —Colin King

There’s a difference that is especially evident when I walk with my camera in hand between what catches my eye and what truly holds my attention. These are the pictures I love to live with. I print and frame them, display them in my home on my walls, in my heart, like a giant mood board that makes me feel joy.

Keep Photographing

As long as a body of photographs remains open, almost any uncertainty can be answered in the same way: keep photographing. 
Another photograph might solve it. Another month might make the direction clearer. 
—Martin Kaninsky

No Rushing Allowed

The film scans arrive and they are a mix of the end of summer and early fall. I’ve been thinking a good bit about the role of photography in my life. The world feels like it’s changing at warp speed and keeping up is something I’ve stopped trying to do. Instead, I keep coming back to things that are both simple and meaningful. These film photos are like an antidote for weariness. The curve of a watermelon, the light falling on the caravan, the silence between the seasons. The design of a photograph isn’t just visual—it’s experiential.  We remember the feeling.