east coast birthday.

I always forget just how much I like photographing my family (especially the young ones) until we’re all together and I’m following them around with my camera. I have years and years of photos, their entire childhoods captured as I see them. Sometimes they cooperate, sometimes they don’t—both scenarios offer equally interesting shots. There’s absolutely […]

winter woods.

The second day I’m home, my father takes me to where the beavers are making their dam. There is a half-finished one that someone has pulled out of the water and left dried out and useless on the shore. There are beaver tracks around but no beavers. I called the town, my father says. They’re going to […]

sleepless.

I haven’t been sleeping. I’ve been away from Los Angeles for a week and a half now. Five days ago my eye doctor told me I had astigmatism. You should have been wearing glasses for fifteen years, he said, before berating me for the amount of eyeliner I used. I picked out my first pair of glasses later that […]

a long absence.

  I haven’t been to Connecticut in over a year. I watch out the window as the plane descends over farmland and greenery and a line of bright yellow tractors and I think: OK, I’ve made it. I’m back.  It’s a particular feeling to return to the place of one’s birth. You feel at once a […]

twenty-six weeks gone.

I got to Connecticut on Sunday after two flights and one predictably terrible airplane meal. My parents picked me up in Boston; we drove to the North End and ate Italian food for either a late lunch or an early dinner, take your pick. We got marzipan, tiramisu and cannolis for the ride home. I […]

splendid understanding.

Somewhere in the world there was a young woman with such splendid understanding that she’d see him entire, like a poem or story, and find his words so valuable after all that when he confessed his apprehensions she would explain why they were in fact the very things that made him precious to her . […]