Ayla On the Thumb

Babies are an interesting breed. All you have to do is meet their basic needs and they are as happy as a clam. Feed them, burp them, change them, put them to bed. This covers about 95% of their crying. The solutions are usually extremely simple. Their is no need to set up a three-ring circus for a baby because chances are they just want to be bounced or something. Take the picture of my daughter below. She is sucking on, what in her opinion, is a delectable thumb, and is as happy as a clam.

But at the same time, deciphering which of those simple needs is necessary at that moment is the difficult part. Does she need to be changed? Is there still some gas in there? Does she just want something to suck on or is she really hungry? And the worst part is that when you are in the heat of the moment and your baby is screaming, you tend to forget some of the simplest solutions such as swaddling your baby or holding her a different way.

And when you figure out exactly what it is that she wants, you move from absolute stress to a sense of accomplishment and pride previously unparalleled in your life. Because you know that you have met the needs of your child and, consequently, fulfilled the exact duty given to you through parenthood. I love that feeling.

Ayla on the Thumb, Franklin, TN
70mm, f/4.5, 1/30 sec

What Has Been Keeping Me Away

I realize that there has been quite a long silence between my last post and this one, so I feel it is only courteous for me to introduce her to everyone. This is my daughter Ayla Joy. She interrupts my sleep, sometimes screams without reason, perplexes me often and brings an incredible amount of joy to my life. She has flipped my world upside-down and I will never be the same because of her. She grows like a weed (already) and sleeps whenever she wants. And even though I could write about all of her little sighs, groans, cries and other noises, I realize that it would bore most people because she is not their daughter. And let's face it, many of those things are only interesting to the ones who also see the screaming, tears and fussing. So I will try to keep my musings about how darn cute my daughter is to a minimum. Instead, I will try to give insight to those who don't have children and a reminder of the wonder that accompanies kids to those who already have them.

This photo was taken just a few weeks after she was born. I can't go any further without thanking Rebekah Pope and Barbie Schwartz. I previously worked with both of them and they were kind enough to let me bring my camera during a photo session at Rebekah's studio. Be sure you check out their work.

Ayla in Her Mother's Hands

Streams of Water

I was a kid that day in Chicago, IL. It was a fun little day trip our family had taken. We took in the sights: Michigan Ave., Niketown, the Hancock building, and finally, Navy Pier. As we strolled back down the length of the man-made isthmus, we passed through an interior garden area. The plants were beautiful, but that was not what captured my attention. Arching over the pathways which crisscrossed the botanical floor were jets of water shot from one green island to the next.

What made these streams of water so interesting to me was their uniformity and compactness. It seemed to me that clear tubing was arching over the pathway and water was simply being piped through it. So what did I do? Touch it, of course. And what did I find out? That water, when interrupted from its original path, will spray in many directions.

I have pulled a few lessons from this. First, it is normal for children not only to watch, but also to touch in order to find out how things work. And second, water fountains are simple, but highly effective at captivating the attention of youngsters.

How is it that one of the most basic compounds on the planet can be so enthralling to wide-eyed children everywhere. Sprinklers, fountains, water hoses; there is never a sad kid in sight of these things. So when it gets down to it; who cares why kids are so happy about running through sprinklers in the front lawn. The real question is...why aren't we out there with them?

The following picture was taken in Charleston, SC. Though I am no longer a kid, I still enjoyed watching it.

18mm, f/4.5, 1/8000 sec
The Fountain, Charleston, SC

The Quiet One

The van was packed with four adults and five children all on our way home from church. The adults were tired, four children were energized and one little girl was taking it all in. I don't know why she was so quiet, but I could tell she was entirely content to watch myself and my co-photographer snap pictures and entertain the other children with the immediate playback features of our cameras.

Then it came. A rare moment where the other children were distracted and she looked directly at me. Not posing, but rather happy to stare at someone new to her sphere of acquaintances. In that instance, the gleeful screams of the other kids and the reprimands of the adults all fell away. It was odd, we connected through the lens of my D70 for a 1/50 sec. and for once, the quiet one received the attention.

This photo was taken my senior year of college during my 'Social Documentary' class. We were assigned to photograph families' lives who were helped my a non-profit in town. We received Miss Ruthie and in doing so, came into contact with the beautiful children she cared for. It has been my favorite assignment.

The Quiet One, Jackson, TN

From the Back of a Pickup

I had been in Argentina for a couple months by then and we were up in the northern part of the country. We were based out of a rural town and traveled during the day to even more rural towns. The people were always welcoming but, although I spoke Spanish fairly well, I had difficulty understanding their country accents.

On one specific visit, we drove to a town to hand out food and other necessities to its inhabitants. My job was simply to sit in the back of the truck, hand out the supplies and make sure no one took anything. Well it wasn't long before I became the focus of a group of young boys. I was blond, tall, crammed into the back of a truck. Plus, I had a digital camera in my hands, most likely a contraption these children had maybe seen a few times. Their lives were very different from mine. They were clad in hand-me-down clothes, owning maybe few extra sets at home, and the thought of going to a movie theater or a mall was incomprehensible to them.

So, without much else to occupy their attention, they stood at the back of the truck and willingly answered my unspoken request for them to become my photo subjects for a short while. In the end, I was able to take a few photos which they were then able to look at afterwards.

Whenever I look at this photo I think about how it would be easy to look down on them for having so little and being amused by something so simple, but I don't think that way. In the end, they did much more for me than I did for them. Sure, we gave them clothes and food, but I was able to come away humbled by the fact that they live with so little and still have the ability to laugh, while I possess so much and struggle to see the blessing around me.

Under Inspection, Argentina

Being Pregnant

Being a man, I do not profess to know everything about being pregnant. I have never and will never have a child growing in my womb. And, most likely, will never know the pain and effort it takes to push that little child out of my body. That being said, I do know what it is like to have a wife who is pregnant. So, to this I will try to offer my humble opinion.

Having a pregnant wife is an incredible experience because I see someone I love so much, grow and nurture a child I have never met, but already love and care for. It is hard to watch my wife be in pain or uncomfortable or nauseous or any number of things that happen to her during pregnancy. I almost feel guilty because I don't ache the way she does and therefore can't fully identify and understand what is happening to her body. It is exciting to feel our daughter kicking and punching and moving around inside my wife because one day she will be in my arms kicking and punching and moving around. It is like standing on the edge of the unknown; not knowing what it is like to have a child of my own to care for and nurture. One who needs me and my wife to survive. How else is the baby going to bathe and eat and find shelter and relationships. It will be utterly helpless and depending on us. But finally it is one of the most amazing things to ever happen to me. Because when it comes down to it, all those emotions and feelings are what make it unique, memorable, exciting, and even a little scary.

The following picture was taken on a swinging bench on a dock in Charleston as my wife and I were talking about our daughter and what to name her.

Pregnant on the Dock, Charleston, SC

Quit Reaching?

When I was about 12 years old, I was helping my dad work out in the garage, when a big hot air balloon glided low over our house. I knew it was about to touch down, so I grabbed the first bike I could find and raced off down the road to see it close up. Sure enough, it landed in a field and I spent a couple minutes talking to the driver and watching them deflate it. When I had my fill, I rode back home, just then realizing that I had left my dad in the middle of our task. As I came into the garage where he was working, he asked me,"Did you see it?" I was a little taken back. So I sheepishly said, "Yeah, but I am sorry for leaving in the middle of work." But my dad never missed a beat. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. I want you to feel free to explore."

There is no end to the joy it brings a child to hear that from a parent. Because it is in our nature from birth to observe, test, try and ask questions. Every child is enthralled by what is new, which is just about everything. But most of the time, they don't simply ask about it, they want to touch it. I lovingly refer to it as full contact learning. And it is the best way to learn, in my humble opinion. Don't just tell me how to do something, show me and then get out of the way because I want to try.

The danger is when we lose this. The desire and willingness to learn and explore. It is easy to become stagnant and quit asking questions; to quit reaching. When I took the picture of the boy below, I was simply watching him while the rest of the family was in the other room. He was waddling around the kitchen when something caught his eye. Something had glinted in the light, maybe even winked at him to get his attention. Now some lesser child may pass this off as nothing, but not this boy. He had to figure out what it was. As he approached, he saw that he might just be able to reach it if he stretched. So he came up alongside the towering wall of appliance and reached out his hand to touch the unknown, shiny object. And with that, he was introduced to the buttons on the dishwasher.

It might seem a little exaggerated, but I don't think so. Maybe some of us could do with a little more wonder in our lives. A little more exploratory adventure and a little more desire to reach for what we might not be able to touch. I know I could.

Reaching for the Shiny Button, Jackson, TN

Running Water

There is a picture my dad took of me when I was 5 or 6 years old. I am running directly at the camera in the middle of summer, hair bleached white by exposure to the sun, and have the biggest smile a 6 year-old can muster. But what was bringing me such unquantifiable joy? The answer was, I was running through a sprinkler. I am not talking about one of those sprinklers that rotates or oscillates. It was a plastic base with about 10 plastic tubes spraying water sporadically out of the top, flopping around wildly in all directions. Even though I am almost 20 years removed from this image and don't really remember the event, per se, I remember the feeling of it. I remember laughing and screaming, wanting to get in the water, but at the same time, not wanting to feel the iciness. It was wonderful.

As I took photos of a friend's child playing in the water in the front lawn, I was inexplicably drawn back to my childhood; one without worries besides whether or not we were going to be able to play in the water. And as I snapped away with my camera, I saw her doing the exact same thing I did as a kid. Screaming for joy, but also having a simple dilemma. 'Should I touch the water? I know it is why I am out here, but do I want to risk getting wet?'

But just like myself, the outcome is always the same. After exhortations of parents and the curiosity inside her own head, she runs into the water and begins enjoying the watery relief from the summer heat. And like my father, I am glad to be there to capture the elation on her smiling face.

This photo was taken as most of my photos of children are taken: while they are simply being kids. It is much more natural to work around a child and catch exactly what they are feeling than to try and convince them to smile while sitting nicely in front of a background. I don't think kids are meant to sit for very long.

Child in the Water, A Summer's Day
Nikkor 70-200mm, 200mm, f/2.8

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

I have loved baseball ever since I was a young boy. I still remember throwing the ball with my dad in the back yard, and the times we played sockball until after the sun went down. (Who knew sewing a few socks together into a ball would produce so many hours of fun?) Consequently, whenever I go to a baseball game, I get the feeling of being a kid again.

So as my wife and I went to a minor league Ft. Worth Cats game last year, I was a little giddy about being in a baseball stadium. The cheers, the sound of the bat on the ball, and children carrying around their baseball mitts just in case there is a foul ball or home run: these are the memories that linger in my mind.

When I went to baseball games as a kid, I always had my glove and in the back of my mind, disregarding the improbability, expected to see a foul ball coming straight at me each time I attended. So as I spotted these would-be outfielders with the same mindset I had at that age, I couldn't help but smile. It gave me such pleasure to know the next generation of kids can have the same experience and level of expectancy I did.

There is just one problem with photographing children: You never want to look like a creepy guy taking pictures of kids in public. So with total discretion and firing from the hip, I squeezed off a few rounds as a little boy gazed longingly over the outfield fence to view the grassy wonderland known as right field. He was so enthralled by the scene laid out before him that he didn't even realize he had dropped his glove on the aluminum walkway below. It didn't even matter. He had been swept up into a world that many young kids have known: dreams of becoming a major league ball player, making the diving catch, hitting the game winning home run, or striking someone out for the win.

After a little more gazing, the boy reached down and picked up his mitt and ran back over to his parents. And I was left with my childhood dreams of one day making the diving catch, hitting the game winning home run, or striking someone out for the win.

Ft. Worth Cats baseball, Ft. Worth, TX