House of Bryan.

The idea of photographing children fascinates me. Forget trying to sit them down and make them pose and smile. That little quivering lip always shows up. Someone always wants a lollipop, the ultimate bargaining chip, the peace offering for ONE smile, one glance into my lens. Thankfully, as quickly as those crocodile tears appear the other end of the spectrum shows up. A child's laughter can melt even Jack Frost's frozen heart.


Greyson and Asher Bryan are the kids that make me envious of families. They carry the wonderful little boy traits of mischief and innocence. A contradiction it would seem, but I am always proven wrong. One moment they could be attempting to wander off or eat whatever is within an arms reach, and the next they are clutching the shirt collars and their mothers necklace for fear of losing her. Tissue please.






Innocence and mischief at work.

For the better part of the shoot I watched, followed and prompted only to get their attention towards the lens for nearly two hours. They are inquisitive little boys, Asher looks as if he might know all the secrets to the universe, but his little grin indicates he is not going to tell you a thing. Greyson was the great explorer of Battery Park. And as much as he loved my camera, he would be come just as shy. Which made for the perfect shots of sly rascality.

As for the Family shots, they are always entertaining. The parents spend most of the time trying to engage their children and make them smile. Put them in front of the camera and the multi-tasking ability kicks into high gear. But Jason and Heather pulled it off spectacularly, thus creating the portraits of the House of Bryan. Quite the a photogenic family I'd have to say. I knew there would not be a dull moment in this shoot. There never really is with children. It reopened the love I have for photographing little people. They rarely make the same face twice, you have to catch them in the moment. And quite honestly, I would do well to learn from them and their philosophies on life. Smell the flowers, laugh at everything, smile more, fall down, get up, eat something funny looking. 25 years of walking the earth does not make me an expert, especially on little things. Detailed things. That is what children have taught me. Slow down. Pay attention to the details. And maybe not to eat so much sand next time...


Big thanks to Jason, Heather, Greyson and Asher Bryan!

The Road Traveled.

My ideal travel guide would tell me that whatever road I take is the right one, no matter the direction. If I feel like going West, so be it! West is an excellent direction. Means of transportation are fairly insignificant if you're only using them as the tool to get from one place to the next. I have driven, biked, hitchhiked, and vespa'd, various parts of the world. All with the

goal that the journey is to be just as fun, if not more adventurous than my destination. So far I've had great success.

The best part about this blog is that I don't have to compare it to someone elses. There could be hundreds of blogs out there that chronicle someone's world travels and life achievements that dwarf mine; my minuscule scooterings over the swtichbacks of the Amalfi Coast could seem like a cake walk to climbing Kilaminjaro. However, I was reassured the other morning that this was my blog.
My life.
My road to travel. I should not make light of the opportunity nor my own chronicles of life.


My direction can change with the wind or like the tidelines of the ocean. And the footnotes of my travel guide say, in bold font, "do not wonder 'what if?'"! A life can be made up of "what ifs" and missed opportunities. Its troublesome to look back on at times. I find myself glimpsing into the rearview mirror of my past and shaking my head thinking, I should have done that, or what IF I had done this?

New goal: eliminate a few of the what if's in my life by participating in my life. No one can predict the future, nor can they foresee the outcome of the choices made. That is the beauty of the Road Traveled. You picked it. Congratulations! You have no idea where it leads or when it curves, dead ends or forks. But you know from previous experiences that roads are never straight and narrow, so you're semi-prepared with brakes.

There is an upside to the "what ifs" of life. I noticed quite a difference in mood when a positive outcome results from a "what if" moment. I asked myself a few:

What if I:
never moved to Charleston, SC
never picked up a camera
hated traveling
preferred coffee over tea
loved mountains more than the ocean.
never wrote in a journal.

Those six "what ifs" are just a few that would have changed the course of my life, not only geographically, but mentally and emotionally. I shudder to think if I some how chose a desk job over a photography job or chamomile over cappuccino . When I think about the what ifs that have become such staples in my lifestyle and have brought me to a place that I am content with, I am grateful to have something to show for the outcomes. It makes me smile. The intriguing part is a lot of them were choices. I chose to move to Charleston, to live by the beach, to write, to drink coffee. They were never forced, and each one just as unpredictable as the next. One choice spawns a new set of adventures, new people to meet, new roads to travel down. It is a semi-terrifying route, to watch it curve and bend from my vision. But equally as exhilarating.

Therefore, all in all, rather than focus and dwell on the road NOT traveled, I have displayed before me the road that I have, with no apologies or irrational fears about what the future will hold. It is there waiting.