The earth turns.

The dock stays.

The chairs sit.

The boat drifts.

The people visit and then go home.

To their states and their lives,

their work and their bills.

Seasons change.

The people age.

The marriages bend and turn.

A new birth.

The cardiologist calls.

And yet.

The boat drifts.

The chairs sit.

The dock stays.

The earth turns.

Another family arrives.

A new tooth awaits.  A new year dawns.

Happy 2012.

A

I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father’s protection.  ~  Sigmund Freud

For 68 years, they have faced their future together, and looked towards each other for support, love, confirmation and assurance.

Now, they sit together and watch their great-grandchildren play in the yard.  Too elderly to move assuredly, they prefer to sit and watch.  That’s okay.  They’ve had their time running and chasing.  It’s the season of life to watch and to reflect.  Reflect upon what has been and what is yet to come.  They face realities of wondering who will pass on first, how will the other ever survive without his or her other half, when is it time to say “uncle” and admit that help is needed.

They have lived full lives.  My grandfather is a former New York City Police Lieutenant, and my grandmother, a professional pianist, who is completely self-taught.  To watch her fingers on the piano or on the organ is like watching magic.

Together, they are “Nana” and “Pop-Pop.”  Together.  They are.

For all the accomplishments they have had in their lives, it is no surprise that what brings them the most joy are their grandchildren and now great-grandchildren.  It is what they have to show in this world.  It is what will carry on without them.  It is their legacy.

And as everything comes full circle, from birth, to crawling, to walking, to running, to slowing down, to walking with a cane, to not walking much, to a wheelchair, or to permanently lying in bed, so too do other circles travel.  The child goes from being taken care of by her parents, to moving away independently, to returning now to care for her parents.  Circles.

Life.

xo,

A

We just returned two days ago from vacation in Maine where we were visiting my grandparents.  My grandparents, Nana and PopPop, both in their 90s, have been married 68 years.  I look forward to sharing those photographs with you once the film is returned from the lab.  It was a virtual family reunion with my mom, her parents, my brother and his wife and their two boys, and my family with my four kids.  I cannot wait to see what I captured through my lens.  I shot on four different cameras with a variety of films.

Until then though, I’ll share photographs from my husband’s grandparents recent visit to Virginia from Florida.  Grannie and Pa have been married 65 years.

65 years.  It seems like a lifetime.  It IS a lifetime.  It is longer than many people live.

It is me and you and life.  It is good and bad.  It is health scares, pregnancies, unemployment, deployment, separations, relocations, unmatched expectations, disappointments and frustrations.  It is celebrations, children, commitments, reuniting, building, vacations, friends, weddings, retirement, joy, laughs, more frustrations and more laughs.  It is love.

Love is.

A

These were all shot on my Contax with Portra 800.

recently i volunteered with Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep (NILMDTS) to photograph a family and their infant who was stillborn at 39 weeks.  you can read my post here. on my facebook page, i received so many kind comments about the work i was doing for that family, that the whole experience really got me thinking about photographs and why this work is so important and why i feel it’s so important for me to do it.

when it all boils down, i think the answer is simple ~ we, as living feeling individuals, want to remember.  other people mean something important to us.  events speak to our lives.

and despite all the wonderous miraculous things that our brains accomplish, sometimes our memory vision becomes cloudy.  and we don’t want clouds.  we want a memory as clear as the day it happened.

a photograph captures the emotions of the moment, the gestures, the glances, the generations, the new babies, the homes where we raise our children, the friends we have, the smiles, and yes, sometimes the tears.

this past summer we were on vacation, and we came across an old antique store in the middle of nowhere and this is what i found ~

a pile of photographs.

a pile of memories from across the world, literally.  i couldn’t get enough of this basket.  i was in heaven.

oh, the lives it held, the stories it told.  collections of people and events that someone thought were so important to memorialize, to never forget.  to capture their light on film.

offered now for $.75 each.

immediately i asked for the whole basket.  an elderly gentleman employee gingerly started taking out the photographs and one-by-one pricing the basket.  uh, no, i said, thinking i was about to face a $200 charge.  he told me that was the only option.

so very carefully, i started choosing the photographs i wanted.  and thinking about the lives that they held.  and until now, i wasn’t sure why i bought them or what i would do with them exactly, but they spoke to me.  and since August, they have hung on the board that sits next to my desk.  i acknowledge them everyday.  a nod to the lives within.  a nod to why i do what i do.

i’d like you to meet some of these friends ~

i imagine this faceless woman is a first-time grandmother holding her grandchild, a little boy, for the first time.

(the notation on the back reads “Feb. 18 ’69. 18 days old. Linda & Roger”)

next ~

mother and daughter?  neighbors?  notice how the younger woman has her arm around the older, but not vice versa.  neither smiles much.  was this a happy occasion?  or not?

next ~

i love this fun picture.  i imagine it’s either mom or grandma having some fun with the little boy.  you can tell because they’re both smiling.  there is a love there.

next ~

a gorgeous bride on her wedding day?  though that’s alot of flowers in hand for a wedding, no?

next ~

it’s summer and hot.  check out that swing that i’m sure CPSC would ban as a death-trap.

(the notation on the back reads “March 1956 Michael Edgar Weaver.  Born Sept. 16, 1954.  Guam NCS.”)

next ~

the guys.  what a fun picture. you can tell the man on the left is related to the little guy by the way he is lovingly smiling at him.

(the notation on the back reads “Kenny, 19 months. Pop Pop Hess. Elmer Platt. Ray Millard.”)

next ~

a father and his little girl.  dressed for church?  a holiday?  Easter?

(the notation on the front reads “Linda & Daddy – Cincinnati, OH. 1947″).

we photograph because we can.  it’s important.  the images represent a person and a life lived.  proof.  i exist.  i mattered.  these are the ones i love (or the ones who love me).  you mattered.  this is a time i want to capture and never forget.  this is a person i want to capture and never forget.

never forget.

and so it’s important to me to help others remember, especially in times of great need, when perhaps you’re not thinking of “photographs,” but rather you’re thinking “i just have to get through.”  if i can help someone with their memories, or even remind them that the photograph of this time will be important later, and i have special gifts that allow me to do that, then i owe it to the universe to do just that.

and that’s why i photograph for NILMDTS and OperationLove and families struggling with cancer.

back in that antique store, i paid $.75 for each image to keep that memory alive, whomever memory that is because these pictures meant something to someone.  and i place those images upon my board and ponder their existence and their lives.  where are they now?  what are they doing?  how did their photographs end up in a store on a backroad in north carolina?  i wish i could have taken them all home.

photographs are important.  take them.

A

Inspiration.

I pondered it for a long time.  The truth is, I find inspiration in so many places.  Curves, lines, colors, lighting, people, expressions, relationships.  So, I went about my life with this question hanging in the back of my head.  And a couple weeks ago, I worked an 80th birthday party of a dear friend of mine.  She is the mother of my neighbor.  My neighbor is the youngest of 7 and has 2 young daughters herself.  Those little girls are almost like my own.  I have been photographing them practically since each of their births.  That 80 year old woman has LIVED her life.  She had 5 children in her first marriage, and at a young age, fled a bad situation with all 5 children in tow.  Eventually, she met and married her husband and had two more children.  They have been married 39 years now.  Her youngest son was involved in a tragic car accident leaving him with a serious brain injury.  He hovered near death for a long time.  He is married (and was at the time), and is a father to an 8 year old autistic son.  This grandmother, this woman is full of peace, despite all the hurdles and struggles along the way, and there is no other way to describe it ~ inner peace with herself and a desire for peace for the world.  Her heroes include Thomas Merton and Mother Theresa.  Her home is decorated with her beliefs (Tibetan prayer flags), crosses of all styles, campaign signs (Obama), anti-war signs.  Her home is filled with love with family photos everywhere, in every nook and cranny.  Knick-knacks from around the world decorate everywhere.  Her home has been lived in and loved in.  And yesterday that dear sweet woman turned 80.  What a life.  In editing some photos from the birthday party, I kept coming back to this one.  It is the 80 year old birthday girl and her two year old granddaughter (my neighbor’s daughter).  I look at this image, and I see the spectrum of life, from one stage to another, generations holding onto each other and helping each other along the way.  Both gingerly in their steps, but moving forward together.  One life passing on to another.  Continuity in this universe.

It is these connections that inspire me the most.  When I capture an image like this, I consider myself so grateful to be a witness to this absolute beauty, this absolute love.  There is no greater inspiration.

Peace,

Aileen

Aren’t these kids just adorable?

Can you tell that Ms. R. has a little bit of spunk in her?  Maybe it’s the red hair!

We were within the first 10 minutes of meeting when I asked her to go sit next to mom on the bench so that I could take some shots of the two of them together.  This is where she sat.

Oh she cracked me up!  And then there is her sweet older brother C.  Look at this guy.  He is going to be a real heartbreaker.

Good genes, I tell you.

We shared a lot of laughs.  Between R’s shoes falling off every three steps, and funny little sayings, truly, it was a great morning.

C is such a great big brother, you can tell.  He held her hand, even when he didn’t have to, even when no one told him to.

He was a great photographer’s assistant too.  Wonderful choice of locations and unassisted, he took this shot (okay, so I post-processed it a bit, but he did all the framing, even telling me to move the zoom in a bit more!).

Gramma even came to join us.

We had fun playing in George Washington’s front yard.  There’s C picking up R’s shoes again.  I wonder what Martha would think of this?

And then it was time to pack up and go home.

Thank you so much D Family!  I had a great time!  R and C, thank you for all your help — you both were great assistants!

Three sisters finding out a new brother is coming (ultrasound photo).

Dancing at the church (First Communion).

First sip of her very first shirley temple.

Five little girlfriends.

Sixth month old “finding the light.”

Laughing at how to keep marriage “fresh” after 50+ years.

A father’s comfort.

A father and his 3 girls.

A five year old freely dancing at her birthday party.

A blankie, made by the boy’s great-grandmother, comforts now and for years to come.

A boy and his Bumpa.

Finishing each other’s sentences for over 60 years.

Waiting, so hard at age six.

Their first-born.

A mother’s hand, always there.  Always protecting.

Forty years together.

Oh, what to wish for….

Mother and son.

A flower for you.

Sisters.  So often bickering, but every once and a while, you catch a glimpse of this.  And you’re happy you had your camera out.

The Godfather.

Two self-portraits with my son.

Get the shots.  Whatever you do.  I took the last two shots last year simply by holding out the camera.  But I wanted these moments with my son captured.  During school, I’m home with him by myself in the mornings.  Just he and I.  In our pjs, lazy and unshowered.  Too often I’m behind the camera.  It’s rare that there is shot of my children with me actually in the photo as well.   I want to have those shots.  More importantly, I want them to have those shots after I’m long gone from this world.  Those last two shots are near and dear to my heart and capture the essence of he and I.  Together.  Just us.  Little games and snuggles.  The shots are far from technically perfect.  But they are absolutely perfect in my eyes.

xo, A