Today, after recovering a bit from my long day of shooting Emily and Tony’s wedding yesterday, which was fabulous by the way, I gathered myself up and met Robin, Levi, and Talon for Talon’s first year pictures. I took them out to some new, fun spots I picked out just for them and we had a good time playing. Talon is always so fun to photograph, and he has the coolest little guy attitude around.

I did shoot all film so you’ll have to wait ’til I get it back from the lab, but I did manage to roll out a polaroid for fun. And even Talon had a hand in this polaroid’s final look. After shooting it, I handed it to him and he toddler-handled it, causing those little imperfections on the image. But I like it. It just made it that much more his.

~ author unknown

Through watched documentaries and readings I’ve grown to love Cleveland from afar. As a visual person, I’m mostly drawn to its post-industrial buildings, a mass of vacant shells, that sit rotting away in the shadows of a busy and lost era. With their worn, dark and smokey skins, broken and tattered windows up high, these quiet giants that once pounded aloud with life now sit in a snow covered deep sleep. I’ve fallen in love with not only the cityscape there, but also it’s storied history and of the men and women who once rallied it’s work force. I know it’s a struggling city working hard towards revitalization and maybe the locals may not see their city the way I dream of it, but still, I must someday go and feel it for myself.

Around here there are some industrial districts, but most are shiny and bright and probably have that new refinery smell, so naturally, I stay away from them. My favorite, however, and the only one I’m really drawn to is the sugarbeet factory which lies just south of my house and actually not too far from my front porch. As routine rules my early mornings, I often, along with relieving a long nights thirst and finding comfort in an newly emptied bladder, spend a few quiet moments peering out the window of my front door looking south towards the factory. Through bare wintered trees and just over the the top of neighboring houses its stacks appear. I watch as tall colums of exhaust rise and turn to steam in the bitter winter air giving me a constant changing textured skyline. I think of how I’d like to get my gear and rush out to capture it, especially on this clear morning when everything is bathed in pink from the rising sun, but then the thought of my still warm bed pulls me back and I find my way, quite content, back to my room.

Later in the day, I’m standing just across the street from the stacks. The air, still frigid and the steam still rising, I aim my sx-70 and make my polaroid.