The nice thing about photographing Owen (for me…maybe not his parents) is that I really don’t need to actively practice letting go. He’s outside my experience not in a regular way but in an extreme way. In the regular way he’s like all kids. Wants to be in charge, wants to do things he wants to do, wants to repeat the same joke (it’s my superpower to endlessly delight in this). No, Owen is outside of my experience in a more extreme way because he is autistic. I don’t know a lot of autistic kids and the ones I do are all so completely unique. It makes letting go so much easier. I can’t create an agenda, I can’t predict his response, I can’t plan and scheme and manipulate like I might normally do. I just have to wait. And listen. And follow. And enjoy. And that’s the best part. I can just enjoy what Owen is going to offer me. And let me tell you, in addition to my little life lesson, the actual experience of Owen is really pretty great.

It’s amazing the sense of accomplishment these emails fill me with. I come and go out of some of the most sacred parts of people’s lives, experiencing the love and joy and silliness (and frustration and compromises and limitations) that is their family. And I have to negotiate all of that and also complete the task at hand which is to make beautiful, special, moving (and in focus, properly exposed, artistically composed) images. I don’t often really stop to articulate what, exactly it is that I know. But when I do it makes me feel like such an adult. Such a professional. And that is an amazingly wonderful feeling.

Here’s some shots from a “training” session this friend and I did of a friends 9 month old. And before you get any ideas let me tell you straight out, I am a terrible teacher. I love what I do. I love that it is second nature. This does not translate to anything digestible for a 3rd party. So breathe a sigh of relief that I will not be forcing you to buy my dvd (I’m sure there’d be one hell of a blooper reel though….). Here’s one of my pre-sitting teaching gems, “There is something really nice about the looking off/up, happy baby shot….really shows off the cheeks and the eyelashes. It should be noted that I am not saying any of this with irony. At this stage in the game I am totally in love with this age of babies. They are over the fish-like boringness of infants but before the tyrannical fickleness of the 18 month old.”

It’s shocking to me that it’s May. It feels like I should have been so much further along in this year. There are things that I’ve done, small things like finally making a wall of family photos and learning to play the fiddle, beginning another quilt and organizing my office. But it feels like there are so many bigger things that are still undone. Bigger thoughts that I should have sorted out. I imagine that my thoughts are universal struggles…searching to identify and create the life you want to live, the places and people that make up that life. And most importantly the accomplishments that will have made it all seem worthwhile.

I’m going to blame the books. To combat my personally perceived intellectual decline I resolved this year to read 3 decent, proper, smart books. The effect has been profound. I feel energized, disquieted, confused but engaged. I feel like making grand proclamations. Instead I’ll continue the small steps and hope that thereby the prophesy fulfills itself.  I will continue to create the life I want to live. Accomplishing the things that will make it seem more worthwhile.

Here’s some photos I took of Jennifer Egan backstage before her Seattle Arts and Lecture talk. I started with her book “Look at Me” which was amazing (and decent, proper and smart)

this is pretty much how I’ve known him for the past 7 years…

“born this afternoon at 14.31 PST, a baby girl to Rebecca and Laura. 18 inches long, 6 lbs 12 oz, beautiful”

I sense a roadtrip coming on…

a visit is an opportunity. my chance to turn it off. i’ll happily live by other’s lists. but my own is blissfully empty.

it started many visits ago with rebecca. the spoon making. she set me in a corner of her shop. showed me how to not chop my finger off. and i sat and worked. for hours. for days. once nearly a week. on a spoon. maybe two. once i made a spatula. a baby spoon for ari. they are beautiful. a bit clunky. and for me, they are so much more than a utensil. they are a few days of blissful concentration with a respectable end result. i have to follow the steps. but i don’t have to follow the list.

If you are curious, it goes like this…

• Rebecca finds me a lovely little piece of scrap walnut
• I clamp it down and dig out the bowl of the spoon.
• I draw an outline of the spoon and handle on the side of the block
• Rebecca uses the saw to take off big chunks of wood (I am strictly forbidden to use the power tools…)
• I use a grater to rough out the general curves
• At this point I seem to have forgotten what a spoon even looks like and have to bring a plastic one to continually stare at
• I start using finer and finer files to get the curves right. Rebecca keeps coming over and finding the bumps.
• When it is deemed nearly finsihed i used finer and finer sandpaper to get it very smooth and pretty
• I oil it up and it is done.