@75

Happy Birthday to my ever-glamorous mother, beautiful inside and out.

(dis)connect

Everybody's doing it. I'm guilty, too. The offense is constant connection. There's barely a moment when we aren't preoccupied by a digital device. The phone. The computer. The camera. Repeat. I'm struggling to be present – no matter the locale.

Time to recharge. Must find power source now!

It's no wonder my children are doing the same. Despite concern about the future of human relations I'm still here wanting you to know me. I'm staring into a screen, aglow. Alone.

Lost and Found: Orchard Beach

I take a trip with a friend, meet him halfway on a damp Fall day. A photo safari in the Bronx, October 2011.

Orange Crush

Tender

Two of my favorite people. I think of them everyday.

Clip

Do Not Disturb

Bubble Luscious

Summertime is my season. Life in a bubble of warmth and green.

Shooting Gallery

Soiled clothes, wilted grass blades and a large moth (dead and hairy). While I toiled in mountains of camper crud my boys busied themselves on our front step. Cap shots and powder hung in the air, a welcome disruption to the summer's idyll.

Kidmarks

Imprints of a summer marked by mishaps and run-ins.

Son Day

We send our kids away for weeks – only to drink them in for a day.

About A Curl

Drenched, late afternoon.

Red Glare

Explosive sky over the golf green.  Happy Independence Day to all.

Drift Away

Some wore nervous smiles, others held tightly to Pillow Pets. Ours climbed aboard without hesitation, dutifully looking back. This summer experience has been a full year in the making, the buildup intense. We searched for his wave through darkened glass. The bus cruised out of sight, setting us adrift in its wake of fumes.

Voyeuristically Yours

I'd be lying if I said I didn't dig the access. If you invite me into your life I'll surely accept. Photographing on the sly doesn't work for me and the camera's my all-access pass. I love to peek. There's only one catch – I need you to know I'm there, taking you in.

 With thanks and love to my friend Robin Gottlieb.

Fence Me In

Happy then, happy still. Viva sweet love with you. 

I'm His

He doesn't need me, until he does. He follows his own Sports Center, electronic devices and chewing gum agenda. Behind the scenes I gather and plan. If I'm lucky there will be a body press from Boy-land. Maybe even a word or two. I'm waiting, at-the-ready.

Roadside Attraction

I've been known to veer unexpectedly. Following the heart is a perilous way in which to operate a moving vehicle. Zig! Zag! Swerve! It's the only way I care to drive – my route uncharted. Use caution if you follow close behind. I hit the brakes hard, for love.

Gimme

Blue glitter on my tongue. Yum.

Short-term Parking

Waiting on higher ground for flood waters to recede, 9:21 AM.

Auto Focus

Most days I have no idea what I am doing from minute to minute. I'm packing lunch bags, I stop to sort mail but not read it because I'm detangling my son's hair, which reminds me I've yet to send that invoice. Then I'm out the door heading to the next fill-in-the-blank. I can't concentrate.

Late one afternoon I made this image while on the phone with a friend. We were discussing the over-abundance of photography related information available. Take the feed on my Twitter page; I click on link after link, going nowhere. Follow and be followed, maybe.

While talking, I pass though my bathroom. Light spills into the shower. I stand in the tub, phone to my ear, camera to my eye. Focus. The room feels airless, the instant is suspended. I hang up. Onto more worldly matters.

Hands Down

Protective, formidable, steadfast, true. Just like him.

Carte Rouge

I was consumed with doubt when I found my escape at the back of a strip mall. I got my fix.

Stinging from my third rejection in recent weeks I question the desire to promote my work. It's a big job, one that requires thought and focus and deadlines. Art making is intuitive for me in a way that promotion is not. Finding a balance between the two is difficult but necessary. One should not exist without the other.

What is my goal as I ride the production/promotion merry-go-round? Is the art for you, for me or for them? The answer must be D. All of the Above. My photographs will find the right people when the time is right.

What choice do I have but to be an artist. I see the world in a way that colors all that I do.

Ladyfingers

Turns out that the Ladyfinger is a complicated cookie. In order to do the job right you will need more flour than most sponge cakes and the yolks and whites have to be handled separately. A mixer, sifter, parchment paper, pencil and ruler are also important. If the Ladyfingers cool too fast they will stick to the parchment paper and even worse, will stale quickly unless soaked in liquid. So are they worth the effort? I don't know. Ask the Tiramisu.

Actual fingers are more interesting than baked goods and I look closely at the hands I encounter. Hands seem to carry their own personal narrative, their stories can't be concealed with a little powder and blush. A disembodied hand caught my eye recently as I flashed back to my youth spent watching The Addams Family on T.V.  Perhaps it's just a Bling Thing.

Green Street

St. Patrick's Day, New York City.

Ready Steady Go

I'm pleased to announce that after weeks spent fussing endlessly over details I now have a website showcasing my photography at www.andischreiber.com. A big shout out of thanks and love to Kenny Schneider, Meryl Levin, Jonathan Elderfield and Bonnie Emanuel. They're my favorite bunch of hardasses and I so appreciate their killer edits and brutal honesty.

Please visit the site, leave comments and freely share it with everyone you know. I'm truly grateful for your support.

Spring Flower

Lifelong Mets fan, Port St. Lucie, Florida.

Edit. Sequence. Build. Repeat.

Website under construction.  Coming soon to a browser window near you.

Stop Dead

The days pass slowly.  I look up, down.  A stopped clock, ice-bound debris - - caught in Winter's perpetual chill.

Fun House

Nothing's more fun than a house full of music and friends, food and drink.  A remnant found under the bed and we're still grooving on Cee Lo - - clean and explicit.  Forget you!  Not a chance.