As you know, I photograph a lot of kids. Most of the time, as expected, the focus of the shoot is the kid, or kids. And most of the time the shoots are arranged by mom. Dad, somewhere along the way, often times, get lost in the shuffle. Dad is doing something else. Dad doesn’t want to be photographed. Dad is in a foreign land.
I know for one, my dad never liked to be photographed. On a side note, after my dad died, while we were going through his truck, we found a camera, a camera that we didn’t know he had. I don’t remember what it was exactly, but it was a camera unlike anything I have seen. Imagine buying a camera off the TV, from a a country that now has a different name, only this camera was not that good. It was the strangest thing I have ever seen. Inside was a roll of film with the classic multiple year shoot. Dad would pop off maybe a frame a year, so you could say he was a tight shooter. But this was his view of imagery in general. He had little time for it.
So I wanted to write, and post a few images that salute the dad. I think about my padre all the time, and see things around me that constantly remind me of his life, and his influence on me. I miss going fishing, those super early mornings, freezing cold as we raced the boat across black water to some secret location he had mapped out. Or walking into the mountains, flyrods tucked behind us as we made noise and laughed to try to scare the bears away. Or when I was very young and he took me duck hunting. I had my BB gun and he brought candy for me that he kept secret until I was so cold and about to cry.
I’m lucky, cause I work with some dads that remind me of my dad. Dads who are really devoted, regardless of where that call comes in from, London, Rio or Tokyo, the call always comes in.
Okay, so after this somewhat sad post I’ll follow with an upbeat one! This photo is of my dad’s boots which I took back to Wyoming after he died.