Tree Porn

I casually asked my gardener to get rid of a dogwood tree in our yard. Now I can't stop thinking about it.

I thought there would be more time to say goodbye but in the two hours that it took for a child's baseball game the tree was obliterated. Not even a branch remained on our curb. What a surprise when we arrived home. My son had tears in his eyes.

The dogwood had been in decline for nearly eight years, since we bought our house. With my boys needing more space it seemed like a good idea to have it uprooted. I have been visiting what remains all week, trying to make something that feels right photographically to honor a tree that gave us more shade than I knew.

Soon topsoil will be laid and seed scattered to grow grass. It will be beneath us, buried. We will kick balls and lose them in our neighbor's yard, forever. I'd like to remember the dogwood.

Cherry Bomb

Don't panic. It's only the remains of an Italian Ice. No lips stitched or bones bandaged. Time for messy hands and more laundry. Warm weather is here.

Exhale. Inhale. Devour the stickiness.

Morning After

He wanted to go to a neighbor's house to watch TV, but it was a school night and he was showered and in pajamas. I made him stay home. So he went out to our backyard to teach his younger brother how to pitch a hardball.

Moments later we were at a pediatric after hours clinic. I became an expert on eye trauma and the orbital bone surrounding the area. Thankfully, there was no major damage. The bloody hemorrhage will clear. He was a good sport.

The learning curve is steep for parents. We continually make choices on our children's behalf. I try to give my boys space to grow, yet sometimes I feel like their warden. On this particular evening I wanted a do-over.

Be Ok

I was inspired to combine some images after seeing a triptych made recently by my friend, photographer Jonathan Elderfield. It's posted here, http://jonathanelderfieldphotoblog.blogspot.com/2010/04/triple-play.html on his photo blog. I liked that he included himself in the mix and the magical quality of his images. I tend to read images like a sentence when they are combined horizontally. My question when pairing or tripling them up - -  is the sum greater than the parts? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

The pictures in my diptych were made last week, a few minutes apart. I had my camera out to mark the day and find my place in it. The afternoon light fell hard. In its shadow I was vulnerable, ambivalent. By combining these images I reframed my memory of the day and have a shifted perception. I wanted to to be okay in that moment. Looking back, I realize that I was.

A Stranger Fear

I greatly admire street photographers, their courage and drive and spontaneous images. How I would love to be one - - but I am afraid do not have what it takes.

I can't bring myself to photograph strangers, candidly. I need to request permission of a subject, especially if I hope to use the image online. Most people are unwilling to be photographed and are not flattered. Paranoia.

At a local carnival I photographed a teenager. He wasn't pleased and asked me to delete the image. I politely refused. He told me that taking his picture was illegal. I reminded him that he was in public. This type of exchange always rattles me. I end up questioning my motives and then returning to quieter subjects that don't talk back, like potted plants.

I ate lunch at a waterfront park. After photographing my leftover crusts of bread I wandered looking for something new. I met a young woman. She sunbathed. I made pictures. We talked. She told me about the tattoo on her lower back for Steve, her boyfriend of seven years whom she no longer sees. I appreciated how at ease she was in her own skin. She gave me permission to use the images on my blog. Truly an amazing soul. I had hope.

Like anyone capturing moments, I am a fear-driven stranger, with a camera.