My son Max is six years old now. He got his own camera for his birthday. You can see his earlier photos here.
I looked into her eyes, the most intense eyes I’d ever seen. When she shut them at the end of the day it was like the end of an era.—Scott Spencer, Preservation Hall
I couldn’t stop from thinking of the other life I’d once led. Grief is a most peculiar thing; we’re so helpless in the face of it. It’s like a window that will simply open of its own accord. The room grows cold, and we can do nothing but shiver. But it opens a little less each time, and a little less; and one day we wonder what has become of it.—Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha
Just as every lover at some level believes that he or she makes love as it’s made nowhere else on the planet, so every artist clings for dear life to the illusion that the art he or she produces is vital, necessary, unique. Aesthetic elitism, sexual snobbery; these are not the reprehensible attitudes that our culture makes them out to be. They’re the efforts of the individual to secure a small space of privacy within the prevailing din. All people should be elitists — and keep it to themselves. [Books In Bed]
— Jonathan Franzen, How To Be Alone: Essays
I too walked the streets of Manhattan island, and bathed in the waters around it,
I too felt the curious abrupt questionings stir within me.—Walt Whitman
If despair even [in youth] is terrible, what must it be in age, when the years rush past with a growing pallor and through the dusk we begin to see the stars of eternity?—Victor Hugo, Les Miserables
Max's camera can add Disney characters to his frame. Normally I don't like this, but in this shot, it works well.