I’m happy to have any excuse for some photo time with the Gove family. They are the bestest. What I learned during this particular shoot is that Brittney has some lovely scars, and a pretty incredible story of how they came to be. Also, when I give a piece of camera equipment to a toddler to distract her during a recording, maybe it shouldn’t have velcro. I should also explain why Brittney and I crack up right after she said she thought she had died. Right on cue, that’s when little Eleanor let out a couple fantastic baby toots. Yay! Brittney, I can’t thank you enough for sharing your wonderful markings and story.
Here’s the audio of Brittney telling her story.
Ryan’s story is a pretty incredible example of a life-changing experience, as well as important advances in surgical procedures. I mean, minimally-invasive valve repair! Ryan, thanks so much for sharing your story, and for our continued conversation afterward, when I got to dust off my old cardiovascular implant knowledge. Also, I’m pretty sure that the end of every shoot should be celebrated with milk and cookies.
Hey everybody! I’ve decided to post another installment from my “Scars of Ours” project. Still working towards a separate blog, but I want to keep moving forward in the meantime. This is a particularly special post because this story comes from my Dad. He’s a hard-working Jack of all trades, so he has a few scars. However, this is the one I’ll always remember most. It was pretty traumatic when it happened. It also seemed unfair that he had used his table saw for years without a safety, and then the first time he used the safety, this happened. I have to add two of my favorite parts of the story that he doesn’t mention in the audio. One is that his plastic surgeon’s name was Dr. Hand. The other is that for a while, he had 2 metal pins sticking out of his fingertip to stabilize everything while it healed. He used to freak people out by using it as a fork. My dad is cool. Here he is recounting how he fought for his right to play the guitar. Rock on, Dad.
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
― Kahlil Gibran
It’s a big week here at the old photo camp! I’m finally launching two projects that have been on deck for ages. The first will be a continuing series called Scars of Ours, where I take photos of scars, and record the stories of how they came into existence. Is this a wildly new concept? Nope. Does it have nearly endless possibilities? Probably. Is it a labor of love where I get to combine three of my favorite things: people, photographs, and stories? Absolutely.
Soon, I will have a separate blog specifically for this project. In the meantime, here is my first installment. It seems only right that my friend Amber starts this project off. Taking her headshots in 2005 was one of the very first official jobs I had as a photographer. Over the years, she has played nice with my camera many times. We like her. Also, she’s a cool, lovely person, and a great storyteller. Here, she recounts how she got some beautiful little markings. Thanks so much, Amber.
