Countless quotes can tell you that man's best friend is the dog,
that they have an undeniable ability to heal people, seeking only love and understanding. Still, there is no quote for these two and their unconditional love that sparked a new sense of confidence, curiosity, and childhood in me. Early on, photography was just simply a way to be creative and see more of Rhode Island. I had my beginner Nikon D3400 and some stock lenses. Not a sheer ounce of knowledge of photography either. I would head out with a destination, a sandwich, and a speaker-we can't forget the tunes. We'd spend quite literally an entire day feeling as free as the birds above us. We'd run as fast as we could to the peaks of hills, splash in ice cold water mid-November, sit in complete silence beneath the pitch pines. We've seen army helicopters land just feet before us, young fawn experience their first snow, a man ride horseback into a pond. Moments to fill a novel and only more to come.
I'd rush home every night to upload and dig through the thousands of photos I took,
it slowly became clear why what I was doing was so important. Soon there were comparisons between Marlowe aged 6 months and now, Marlowe just shy of 3 years old, how big he had gotten! Gerra, so stunning and serene. His face was seemingly molting from a vibrant black and brown, to a shade indistinguishable from the sands of New England. I realized years had gone by since I started doing this. Changes that happen so gradually, which would have naturally gone undetected by myself, are documented in these photos. What an unexpected and invaluable gift I had been creating for myself all these years.
I am one for living in the moment,
and many a time I have thought that maybe I should put the camera down. But, what is more true now, after so many years, is the connection between the memory and the photo. What I find so significant about this is that I am not in a single photo. I reside behind the lens, but I am just as much a part of the photo. When I look back on these photos I can hear Gerra's wild fur brushing against dried grass as he settles in for a nap under the winter sun. I remember the path we took through 6 inches of snow one afternoon finding ourselves completely surrounded by green in the dead of January. I remember sitting at the peak of that sand hill, Gerra in my arms, Marlowe tunneling his way to another country, and the sun setting before us. No time spent behind this camera has gone wasted. I am forever grateful to them for teaching me that my most valuable savings are worthless to others. Their weight is in memories I'll never forget.
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