Fight Club

Bragging Rights

My Junior Leaguer. Not so junior anymore.

Beauty Marks

I like to connect your dots.

It's Everywhere

Find it, feel it, share it.

Restoration

Brightens and energizes the look of dull fatigued skin. Black light not required.

Confectionately Yours

Faraway daydream - - Old Montreal, April 2016. 

Forever Young

Daily renewal, Boca Raton, February 2016.

Sunshine State

Fear and loving in Boca Raton, February 2016.

Hoax Springs Eternal

Fakery at the fabric store, March 2016.

Relieve Me

Late 40s style pain management.

This Guy

He is the candy to my eye. Happy Fifteenth Birthday to you, sweet guy.

These Two

As of tomorrow there will be two young "men" in our home and my not-so-little guy will become a Bar Mitzvah. My hope is that these brothers will continue to play wiffle ball in the yard even though they've outgrown its boundaries and still hug one another goodnight for as long as we all remain under one roof. Partners in fun, may they amuse one another for a lifetime of laughs. For to remain playful is to never grow old.

Shine on into Jewish adulthood, sweet Zac. Wishing you Mazel Tov - - with love.

Elevator Pitch

You've zigzagged through your early years with insatiable curiosity, sharp humor and a playful nature. Ever adventurous, you embrace the journey and sometimes lose sight of the destination entirely. Yet somehow, you've reached this day in less time than it takes to ride an elevator to the elusive 13th floor. You rise. I stand by, grounded. Astounded.

Happy thirteenth birthday, my sweet guy. You've arrived.

Plug-in

This would have gone unnoticed had it not been for my son. He left the house through our side door one morning and discovered that the contractors had left their power cord connected to an outlet overnight. In truth I've been really checked out lately, barely motivated to see anything as remotely photographic. "It's just a phase - - some downtime," I tell myself, hoping that the urge to see will return again. While I recharge he'll be my eyes. I'll count on him to tune me into the details which aren't small at all.

Breathe

Heart Lines

Following a long and deep sleep, my eldest son showed me the lines across his torso which had been imprinted by bedsheets. I asked him to hold still by a window. He willingly obliged. I live in fear that at some point, moments like these, will disappear. Not that they wont happen, but that they will no longer be allowed with a camera. I'm not sure where these teenage years will lead me but this was a gift, both seen and heartfelt.

Gliding through Dusk

A tragic ending for a once soothing seat.

My May

Two injections and a reminder never to cook on Mother's Day again.

Intersect

Street life at a preteen crossroad.

Ephemeral

It's good – and then it's gone. One day in May.