Man. How do you describe the birth of your child? Expletives and emotions come to mind. And tears. Lots and lots of tears. In the four months since Elliott joined our family, I find it hard to travel back. Not because I can’t. Or don’t remember. But because so much has changed, there is so much to look forward to, and I am so thankful to have her in our life.
More Elliott after the break. Continue reading
This Christmas past we ventured upstate to spend a few days in the Hillsdale house. It was my first time seeing Sarah and Dan’s epic home, and the first time I’d ever experienced a White Christmas. So naturally, I took an absurd amount of photos of Oliver in the snow. And not in the snow. And looking at farm animals.
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No. This post is not promoting incest. Though I did marry my brother too. In fact, Sarah and Dan asked if I might officiate their wedding, and I was honored to do so. A few weeks later this ordination confirmation from The United Life Church lands in my inbox. “Impress your friends, family, and peers with your new official status!” Needless to say, impress I did, and also managed to document a few moments along the way.
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Diving into the archives for back-to-back birthday posts, this one a few years shy of the ole one-six. If memory serves we spent the long weekend holed up in a killer farm house, eating epic meals, driving back roads, and searching for photo ops. Sounds like any Elliott trip worth taking.
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For Leslie’s 60th birthday the gang surprised her with a long weekend at the Turtle Conservancy in Ojai. Before you ask, it was amazing. Both the celebration and the turtles. We really could have spent a week on the compound, but managed to make ourselves at home in just three short days. In fact, I now consider myself a de facto tour guide after cruising through each and every greenhouse and turtle terrarium on the property. I like turtles.
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A van rumbles down the Outback Scenic Byway collecting high desert dust. She flips through stations fighting static. No luck. The fellow travelers offer no distraction, their lifeless bodies slumped in sleep. It has been lonely these three hours. They’re almost there.
Lakeview, Oregon. A place of little fanfare and even less sparkling water. Gravel pops as they pull into the motel. Hot springs will have to wait.
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On the eve of a great man’s 60th birthday we took a trip to parts unknown. Inspired by faded images of a bygone era, we attempted to recreate a simpler time in the backwoods of Oregon. A time when boys were scouts. The sea was rough. Yin Yangs were cool. And so was Patagonia.
More Rob Elliott after the break. Continue reading
A story of resurrection. No, not one with a bearded dude coming out of the ground for extra nights of partying, but rather a story of photographic redemption. It goes a little something like this…
There’s a poem after the break (how’s that for a tease?) Continue reading
I tend to agree with the photographic philosophy of letting your photos “sit.” I don’t lean them back the La-Z-Boy, peel open a TV dinner and work on their inner spudliness. But i like to let time pass between shooting my images and editing them. In theory the practice removes the excitement of “the moment” and allows for a more objective assessment of the “goodies.” You become lean, mean, and focused on nixing everything in between. Rationale aside, my family would say it’s just an excuse to be lazy. Case in point, Cuba, a killer trip that’s now surfacing after a year of “sitting.” Blame it on the embargo.
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New rule. It is OK to do a late holiday post, as long as said post goes up on another holiday. The logic is sound, and I’m sticking to it. Today we flashback two months to our nation’s independence, and what has now become the traditional pooch-pool-party.
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[gwu] Graham Whitaker Unterberger 