Pig, sleeping.

Looking through some of my food photography over the last year, I am nostalgic for the incomparable Lorraine Eaton, one of the most fun writers to work with, period. From a project on chefs and their knives to the nearly impossible-to-make-look-appetizing souse, I miss the people in my old newspaper life the most. Here's to finding new collaborators in the civilian world. . .

I'm staying in a beautiful house right now, and there are so many surfaces that are just asking to be photographed. Like this bowl with this half dozen duck eggs . . .

Purple Season

It seemed like everything at the market today had this rich, amazing purple in it. 

In the JFK airport this morning I read an account of Peter Lanza's new life, since the day in December 2012 when his son Adam killed his own mother, himself, and twenty-six people at Sandy Hook Elementary School. Andrew Solomon writes that, for Lanza "It’s strange to live in a state of sustained incomprehension about what has become the most important fact about you."“But it’s real,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be understood to be real.”' I think we all have moments like that-- real, incomprehensible moments that can't ever be explained.

It's been a heck of a year-- a hard-hitting year, a year of huge changes that split my heart open and made me even more empathetic than I ever thought possible. A rich year, a sad year, where the world suddenly became a much bigger place. I left my job at the Virginian-Pilot, with the greatest photographers in the newspaper community, for a chance to go after some big projects and personal dreams. I broke up with a great love and packed it all up, dog and all, to move west with friends and try out a new life. I'll be in San Francisco for the next year or so, and I'll be back on the blog-- thanks to Katie Barnes for bugging me about it. Please don't be a stranger-- I've really missed it here. There's so much to share from the last year. I'm excited to get started. . . 

Rainy Day

 Its raining today and everything seems cold now that Christmas is over. Thinking of Josh, so far away, and certainly not warm and cozy as he was the day we made this picture.

Veterans Day

Hurricane Sandy