Holding on. We all do it. Something, a moment in time, is so perfect, so rare, that letting go is difficult.
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I’ve just returned to Boston from a glorious 3 week stay in California. I spent equal time in Los Angeles, Newport (where I was born and raised) and in the Oakland Hills where I lived before moving east. (Don’t ask.)
A little business, a little pleasure, a whole lot of family and friends and a few rolls with the Holga, including my first efforts with color. Not one to do things in chronological order, I’ve decided to post one of the very last images I took before I flew home. This was taken on the Newport Pier as my mother and I walked back to Balboa Island after dinner out at Ruby’s, a favorite haunt of ours going back to my childhood.
Over the years, my mom has slowly begun to appreciate my photography and is still my harshest critic. To her credit I think she’s beginning to “get” my aesthetic and every now and then she’ll surprise me by really liking an image I’m sure she’ll pan. That being said, she still felt the need to “advise” me to refrain from taking this shot, dismissing it as some rat with wings.
It wasn’t the first time I failed to heed her advice. Nor will it be the last.
