Singles that stay that way

And sometimes things are left unfinished, like this story I started working on in Dallas about segregation in housing policy. I was interning there at this time last year, and was whisked away by the Virginian-Pilot before I could get my hands dirty with all the stories I found. Today is a day for nostalgia, and old pictures. Tomorrow, new ones.

Pictures finding Pictures: Photographic Soulmates

Pictures find homes in folders of favorites, and then find mates from unrelated assignments and far away places, and years can go by before certain pictures find their compatriots. I shot the top image on assignment for The Wall Street Journal back in January, and the bottom one during the last month of my internship at the Herald in Jasper, Indiana. There are certain feelings I'm always drawn to-- quiet moments and unspoken relationships you only see when you have a minute to just sit and watch and be with people. I feel like lately things have been moving so fast that I haven't had a minute to just sit back disappear, which is one of the great gifts of being a photographer. Appearing long enough and being sincere, so that people let you disappear.

Longest Day

Wild Ponies. And now, vacation.

Magic

More from the literacy story. Pure magic.

From the Road

The bag is slowly being unpacked. The laundry machine full, the fridge nearly empty except for cookie dough and beer. (When did the regression become complete?) I am finally scrubbed clean and rested, and still humming with the tremendous experience of spending two straight weeks of falling hard in love with strangers. To drive one road for days with few instructions except to make pictures means getting out of the car and immediately building relationships with anyone who looks interesting. Or, in my case, anyone you see, because there were so few travelers on the Blue Ridge Parkway, my home for the past two weeks. Home is quiet. Home is restful. Home is lonely.

Off the Road: Literacy

Home, again, to my favorite story.

On the Road

For what seems like a lifetime, I've been on the road for the Pilot, working on a story in western Virginia. Two thousand miles and a license to make friends with strangers. Not a bad life. More to come. Now, I need to do some laundry, sleep, shower, stare at the wall, drink and see my friends. And yet, I'm sure I'll miss the road soon enough.

Cynicism Can Suck It, Independence Day Edition

I tried really hard to be grumpy for the Fourth of July. Working a split shift, the only photographer on duty, no photo editor, and busy with preparations for a week-long out of town assignment that starts tomorrow morning, it seemed like the perfect storm. But how can I be unhappy when I get to spend my evening with such a wonderful and diverse group of strangers? Of Americans. Yeah, I said it. Give me two hours, from dusk to dark, and I'll give you this.