I live three doors down from these lovely people, Rosemary + Brooke and their little man Henry. Rosemary is a real photographer, like a professional one. She sees light in a beautiful smooth even kind of way. Brooke is an illustrator. I ran into her in the backyard just this afternoon painting a set of Russian stacking dolls. Her work is graphic and bright, intriguing and straight forward. They are artists through and through.
Henry, he laid there on the blanket his great-grandmother made, stealing the show. Strong as he is steady, quiet until he’s hungry (which is always). He’ll stop your heart with his suave gaze and loose jowls. He hides his smile, and you know if you could just see it you'd swoon hard, but he keeps it like a secret. Henry Jean. It’s a steady name for an extraordinary little human.
Rosemary took a few pictures of my little’s and I took a few of Henry boy. I’m a fraud at this profession at best, I see light bent and uneven and I shoot straight into the sun, like a renegade. Still there is beauty in the contrasts and shadows, my heavy grain and low aperture. That’s the lens I see things with. And in our little shared backyard mini shoot what I saw was two very strong creative women raising one very handsome little man. That, and a lot of love.