Long ago and far away, in a strange land called Poughkeepsie, I worked as a newspaper photographer. This photo was taken at a day care center. I don't remember why this boy had been crying, nor do I know his name. I loved photographing people; I loved being a photographer. When we moved to California, in 1980, I no longer had a darkroom and I let photography slide into the past. Now that we have digital cameras, I find myself getting more and more interested in returning to my photographer roots. I used to love darkroom work, but now I love Photoshop instead.
I have been doing major cleaning ... clearing away the cobwebs. I hope I find more of my old photos from when I worked at the Poughkeepsie Journal. If I do, I'll share them here.
We had the exterior of our house painted this summer and I love how it turned out. However, it now seems that everything else is a wreck by comparison. I should heed Don Quixote's observation that all comparisons are odious. Otherwise I will go insane due to the following realization:
If I want the perfection that dances in my imagination,
I'll need to work on my home and garden,
pretty much constantly,
for the rest of my life.
Here I am photographing my sister, brother, mother ... and a doll, circa 1955. The photography bug got me at an early age.