It is February in Maine.  My backyard is a solid sheet of compacted snow.  My wool socks are hanging around my ankles, my turtlenecks are ticking me off, and I’m not enjoying the bulk of the winter coat anymore.  It was all fun in December but not anymore.   I’m itchy inside and out. 

To make matters worse, lately I’ve been confronted everywhere I go with a melancholy and maligned phrase.  “It’s good enough.”  What does that mean?  Does that mean that something will do the job and won’t really matter in 10 minutes?  Well, that seems okay for something to be good enough.  A sandwich on white bread is good enough.  Or does "good enough" mean we are settling when it would only take some planning to make something great happen?  If all it takes is some forethought, "good enough" may be a regret waiting to happen. 

I hope we haven’t been dulled to accepting second rate.  As a dyed in the wool New Englander I understand frugality.  I get “make do or do without.”  I also believe that other people’s opinions should be theirs – not mine.  I have a brain for one reason – to use it.  Even Winnie-the-Pooh said “think, think, think.”  Even in February in Maine with snow the color of nasty dishwater, why is “good enough” good enough? 

I’m on to something.

I was asked - Are you a glass half-full or a glass half-empty kind of person?  I will now answer – A glass is a glass.  Can we start working on solutions now? 

I’ve been told – There are two kinds of people in this world.  I will now answer – I like to work with people willing to see unique qualities in people.  You may not qualify.

I’ve always heard - You can’t take it with you.  I will now answer – That is correct, and it will never fit in the coffee can.  I’ll make sure I enjoy it now while I still have thumbs.    

What was the last thing you settled for?  How is it working for you now?  Surely life can be distilled to a cliché, BUT surely life can defy any boundaries previously thought solid and true.  Surely life can be full of so much more than “good enough.” 

Life isn’t just February in Maine.  



I’ve been thinking.  We are in the process of making some living decisions.  Do we stay or do we go?  I can get dizzy chasing my tail wondering what to do NOW while I’m worrying about the FUTURE.  Its stupid really.  I end up doing nothing.  I don’t know what next week looks like, I can only honestly work with information from today.  I waste opportunities today giving in to a future that I can’t predict. 

Ever wake up in the middle of the night thinking about something you didn’t do or buy and realize it was exactly what you needed?  I’ve left perfect antiques, great earrings, sweaters, art pieces, you name it in stores because I’ve talked myself into waiting for the future.  So the next day I trot back to get them and, of course, they’re gone.  Poof.  I believe it is the Kovels of antique collecting fame who say – You’ll only ever regret what you don’t buy.  Bingo. 

What is my point?  We give up so much today for a future we can’t control.  My official new year’s resolution is to embrace NOW.   I’ve decided.  Right now I’m living here in my house, and I need some artwork for these walls.  Our interior is largely doorways and windows, but I fill my little wall space with interesting, personal art pieces – big, little, huge, and oddly shaped.  I like it. I am constantly thinking about client images and what I would suggest to them about artwork for their walls.  I’m always thinking about images that can symbolize something special without giving away the whole story – keeping it special, keeping it alive.  I picked out these from two beautiful weddings we photographed: 

This got me thinking.  I want to see images of the baby of the family learning to walk with the help of his/her big brother and sister.  I want to see images on the front porch where they finally had their first kiss.  I want to see images of the bottle of wine and the picnic basket used the day she said she would marry him.  I want to see images of a grandmother reading a story to the twelve grandchildren, and auntie working in the garden with a special niece.  I want to see images of the soldier on leave standing on the steps waiting to surprise his mom.  That is artwork with a hell of an inside story!    



     Let me ask you – Which is more visually appealing?  Red ’65 Mustang or a Honda Accord?  Bad Boy or Wall Flower?   Clint Eastwood or Felix Unger?   Don’t overthink your answers – just go with your gut, or your eyes in this case. 

      I answer the phone here at the studio.  I talk to pet owners interested in having their little ones photographed.  I chat with folks about family portraits and suggest they bring their dogs in for the photo.  They love their dogs.  They’d love to have their dogs in the photos.  The number one concern I hear is the dog’s potential bad behavior.  Before they even get their dog to the studio, they are already apologizing.  I know where some of you may think this is going – maybe I have secret photographer knowledge to make dogs behave like well-trained angels.  I wish.  Evidently you haven’t met my dogs.    

      People often convince themselves to wait until their dog is better trained.  Let me introduce you to The Principle of the Uninspired.  You’ve seen this principle in imported sedans, accounting brochures, and latex wall primer.  It is where beige sets in for a long, unassumingly, deeply boring visit that never ends.  The Principle of the Uninspired states “We expect some things to be solidly quiet and bland so they may go unnoticed and allow us to feel safe and sound.” This is great if you’re looking for an accountant, but it doesn’t always work if you’re looking for a little bit of unexpected spark to make a GREAT portrait.  

      There is a charm in devilish behavior. A puppy with a minimum grasp of basic commands may make one hell of a great portrait.  It’s only natural.  We’ve all heard it – dogs originated from wolves.  (Seriously?  My pugs look more like bait than wolves, but I won’t argue.)  Let me introduce The Little Bit of Wolf Principle.  It states “Young, untrained puppies by their very nature are more apt to do something interesting and incredibly cute in a portrait.”  Of course, sound obedience training helps dogs become solid canine citizens able to go in public.  You’ll get no argument from me on that.  But the best puppy photos are wild flashes of the inner wolf.  Hands down.  Every time.  I have proof. 

        Book your puppy’s photos early in their training schedule and take advantage of their natural sense of fun and play.  Do Not Worry about their solid grasp of “sit” and “stay.”  A photographer needs to be able to laugh AND catch the shot.  It may take twenty times.  It may take more.  You only have a few weeks to capture that little bit of wolf before the beast gives up, sits still, and will do anything for a treat … if they’ll get off the couch.    

            I admit I was stymied when it actually came down to write the first entry of Blink!  We’ve been full speed in building this new website, and I’ve hammered out nearly 50 pages of text so far.  Text is easy.  I open my mind and the language falls out to tell everything I wish clients knew. I want them to see the limitless possibilities of photography to enhance their lives, their businesses.  I have often said I am no photographer.   But after standing beside the camera for all these years, I am starting to get what photography does.  Starting?  Yeah.  This is an industry just getting started.

          I grew up with shoeboxes of black and white Polaroid snap shots of my family.  The horses and dogs and batches of new kittens, children on blankets on the lawn, and the everyday life of a farm – from the ‘20s to when it was time to sell.  We still dive into those boxes and see bits of our lives caught for just a second.  We hold up funny photos and laugh.  Other snapshots take us back to long gone Sundays, skimpy fedoras, and Pendleton wool shirts.  I don’t remember anyone ever taking a photo, but I’m glad that they did.     

     Dorthea Lange said “the camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera.”  Who is she?  She gave us the stories of migrant workers and bread lines during the Great Depression in her iconic photographs.  I bet she had a shoebox of family snapshots somewhere, too.  It is probably in the Smithsonian now.  I hope so.  I wonder who stood beside her as she captured this country’s history and showed us the truth of its people in such startling images.  Would we know the impact of the 1930s had she, and others, not photographed the story of America?  That is what photography does. 

          In every snapshot in every shoebox and in every portrait on every wall, photography is telling our stories.  Even those old images that make it to the sad box at the antique store are telling their story for someone to see and imagine. 

           Blink!  is my challenge to step up my game, say something useful, and share my perspective from the photography industry.   I’m excited to start this journey since this is one without a defined destination.  Pack a lunch. 

 Ready?  1, 2, 3 Blink!