Construction Zone

This morning I went for a short walk in Ridgewood, obviously to get Dunkin Donuts iced coffee. The entire area along the 68th Avenue and Fresh Pond Road area was a construction zone on the M line section. 

My grandfather was a builder. I spent 2 years of my professional career working for a concrete and building materials company. I know these guys work hard and one can't help but have respect for this group slinging steel on a Sunday.

Dance Tunes

 A young man stands on the subway while listening to music on his headphones in New York City.
I love you so much I’ll never be able to tell you; I’m frightened to tell you. I can always feel your heart. Dance tunes are always right: I love you body and soul: —and I suppose body means that I want to touch you and be in bed with you, and i suppose soul means that i can hear you and see you and love you in every single, single thing in the whole world asleep or awake
— Dylan Thomas

A Photographer's Perspective

There were photos I had to take for posterity. But then there were images that I took because I could see the energy pouring from the people I photographed. I think ultimately the underlying story was to show generations of women together supporting each other, men supporting women, and children being the next generation to move forward in hope for a better future.

On January 21st, 2017 hundreds and thousands of women, men and children marched in the streets across the globe to send a message to the new administration. Fearless & Framed, a website dedicated to documentary photography, featured several of us women photographers and how we felt being on the ground documenting the day across America. 

A Calm Heart in the Second Act

 The view from a window on a plane at La Guardia Airport in New York City.

I took this while sitting on the tarmac at LaGuardia. Watching the sun rise over the right wing, I retraced my steps to the ride to the airport in the darkened hushed silence. 15 minutes earlier I was standing in the darkness on a curb in Astoria with a heaviness in my gut.

My last day here was spent mostly alone. I woke up late for a Monday, drank coffee, road the subway, walked the streets, and returned at dusk to wander through the neighborhood greeting strangers, looking for the east river, and gathering every last bit of memory to myself I could.

I found myself here, sighing into the condensation of a dirty jet window. Not ready to leave, not ready to stay, but with a calmer heart and mind determined to make the changes I was seeking.