Randomness on a rainy drive

Nothing special here: just a few images on my way home from a shoot yesterday afternoon. It's a summer of storms so far and judging from the long-term forecasts we're headed for more of the same on our vacation in Prince-Edward Island. Still looking forward to it though... 

We leave tomorrow to pick up Jacob after his week in Charlevoix on Friday morning. Then it's the ferry to Rivière-du-Loup and the road to the Maritimes. I'm expecting to be pretty much off the grid so until then, here's to some great summer fun y'all :)


Shot with the X100T


NHP2: Lizards

The water looks like lizard skin, small wavelets barely disturbing its surface while the kids play at skipping rocks a few short feet away. There is a memory of peace that settles in after the fact, when we're back home and only select moments such as this one linger—long after the stress of the weekend, the road and the sugar-induced craziness has passed. 

Just enough to help us plan our next trip... And forget the threat of Bubu the Bear.


Shot with the X100T


NH P1: the boy who sat alone at the top of the world.

New Hampshire's Franconia Notch state park is part of our personal mythology. For Cynthia and her family it was a necessary passage en route to their relatives in Framingham; it still is to this day, in spite of recent losses. When we met it became a rallying point for camping trips with her cousin Ted and his wife Carrie, midway between their home and ours. It's where we all first discussed the possibility of kids... They now have a girl and two boys to our one boy and two girls—all roughly the same age. That's twelve years in the blink of an eye right there.

And yet in all this time we had never once ridden the aerial tramway to the top of Cannon Mountain. So all fourteen of us crammed into the cabin on a beautiful summer weekend and up we went, the kids' faces glued to the windows. At over 4000 feet, the chill in the air hit us hard as soon as we stepped out and hit the trail towards the observation deck built atop the mountain's peak, hiking past drops going straight down to the bottom of the valley and its tiny, tiny cars moving on the pencil line highway. Truth is I've always had a bad case of vertigo, but the camera... The camera is a shield against everything—hunger, fatigue, fear. Maybe it's a rush of adrenaline sparked by the hunt for images, I don't know. But I become all at once aware and detached from my surroundings, enough to make me immune to any physical obstacle, like there's an added layer to reality.

The views are breathtaking. As we head to the lounge I spot a boy sitting on his own at a table outside, perfectly framed against the skies. I'm sure it was all gone as soon as we walked past: his parents came in or his sisters or brothers and the illusion was broken, the starkness shattered. The scene lives on only for the sake of this story, only for us.

The boy sitting at the top of the world—alone and forever young.


Shot with the X100T


Swept

Summer is a runaway train, barreling down the tracks. I keep feeling as if I've somehow missed it already, even though we've yet to do a quarter of what's on our calendar—in fact, our vacations havent even started yet. That'll be a trip to PEI, driving down to Charlevoix like we do every year and then crossing the St-Lawrence to hit the road south. First time in the Maritimes if you can believe it... Anne of Green Gables here we come.

For some reason, weeks are all merging together in a blur these days, without a minute to catch my breath and little time to blog or post what I'm shooting—work or play. I'm still editing the Spokane project, something living deep inside me at the moment; I did a shoot for Lexus this week that was a blast... All things that will surface eventually. And then through it all, Summer: the kid's swimming lessons, the lunches, the country; the slow backbeats and the warm rhythms.

Through it all our youngest turned six. 
We stopped for a second,
then were swept away. 


Shot with the X-T1 and XF 35mm f1/4R


Unbroken

 

It's close to midnight—I can't sleep so I'm writing. Besides, it's been awhile. 

This time two weeks ago I was running through Minneapolis Airport, desperately hoping to catch a connecting flight. We made it with minutes to spare. Over the next 4 days I'd be working on an amazing project, shooting constantly, filling my head with people and stories that would make my mind reel, leave me restless, drunk with memories.

I came back the following Tuesday to the last day of school, the outset of summer's vast and unnending freedom; a new book I'd ordered, waiting in its box; a tablefull of defered Father's Day gifts. All the habitual movements of the season, juggling jobs and kids and time. Life as we know it.

The stage is always the same, the actors are those we already know; and yet their faces keep changing, each one discretely fading into the next, the film unbroken and relentless. You've seen all of it before I know... but it is what it is.
New chapter. Same chapter.
Everchanging.   


Shot with the X-T1 and XF 35mm f1.4R