I take many pictures. I often have my camera with me, not at all times, but often. My friends have learned to count on me for pictures of their children’s parties, sporting events, changes in weather…
I often think that I am a quiet unnoticed spectator, documenting the beauty life presents. Then, there are the moments of humility like while at my daughter’s 9th birthday party, her buddy Carter throws-up on the table as the cake is being served and the whole group of kids turn in unison to me and say loudly, “Do not take a picture of that!”
I was reminded again recently that I am not that subtle at photographing the world around me when while I was blowing out the candles on my birthday cake, my 16-year-old daughter grabs hold of my camera and lays completely on the kitchen table taking rapid fire shots while turning her body like an acrobat.
“Oh, come on, I’m not that bad about taking pictures,” I commented. Laughter from my family was the reply.
My need/obsession to photograph the light that lives within and around us was triggered over 12 years ago when my youngest daughter was in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit. She was on life support for 6 weeks, and in the ICU for 6 months. Because of rare birth anomalies, she had her trachea reconstructed and spent many many months fighting just to breathe.
Many a doctor, nurse, therapist came to see her. I care not to remember how many times, as she fought to live, some of the medical practitioners would call her a him, or speak of my daughter in a tone reserved when discussing the fate of a lab rat. Many people would walk in and not see her humanity, so I decided I would fix that, or at least try.
Arden, 8 months old
I took many pictures of her, making sure that everyone was reminded that she wasn’t a lab rat. With all the I.V.s, drainage tubes, feeding tube and trach, she was a beautiful human being.
Arden, 1 year old
I take pictures, often, hoping to continually capture our beautiful humanity and the light within and around us all.
Arden, 11 years old