A few nights ago, we hopped in the Tucson in search of architecture worthy of being photographed on an old-school, school-supplied film camera. I suggested a more urban setting and the girl consented. While we zipped in and out of traffic, stopping suddenly for a snap here, a shot there, I felt both sentimental and proud watching her confidently dodge traffic in half-tied Timberlands and rumpled, yet casually chic sweatpants, meticulously framing her building compositions while onlookers stopped and stared at this anomalous blonde, blue-eyed photographer snapping away amidst the grimy commuter chaos surrounding her.
Sadly, such concentrated one-on-one time comes more infrequently these days. More reason, therefore, to relish and capture, when I can (and she’s not looking), these milestone moments.
“Suburban girl vs. Newark,” I muttered to myself.
With her skills ever improving, I can’t wait to see what develops from this latest roll.