the other day, my son was scrolling through some of my images (at my request) for the STILL book i am working on. he got to the end of the collection, and said very casually “wow, you clearly prefer photographing winter subjects more than summer.” boom! there it was. the naked truth. several thoughts raced through my head: you’re right, i hate the humidity of summer that makes everything so limp and droopy, in summer have to work harder to soften my lighting, i don’t like how sweaty i get, i don’t like all the saturated primary colors of summer, i prefer the softened neutrals of winter, i love when winter white skies make my job easier, i like the challenge of finding subjects in winter when there is so little to pick from–it forces me to be more creative, i’m a minimalist at heart so the spare images of winter please me. once he said it, it was obvious to me. but what i hadn’t realized, was that it was obvious in my photos too. my son is particularly perceptive. always has been. he’s an observer. a dot connector. i admire his brain. and seek his opinion on just about anything he’s willing to discuss. but he is still a teenager, so his willingness comes in very short intervals. nevertheless, i will miss him inordinately when he leaves for college in january.
snow-covered pampas grasses