County Clare

Camp week has finished.  A wonderful time, and stories for another day.

Sunday, I found myself back in Galway with the American camp counselors and Darren the Dubliner.  The afternoon was spent mostly wandering looking for somewhere to eat, and then an adventure at a castle near Oughterard before a very late dinner at the excellent Powers Thatched Pub. Eat here.  The food is incredible.

Monday, we awoke and headed into Galway town.  The other Americans had not seen it, so a tour of the Latin Quarter, Eyre Square, and the Claddagh commenced.

Never a lack of amazing street entertainment!

A road trip next, through County Clare.  Narrow country roads fenced by hedges and stone walls, stretching on for miles as the landscape bends with the Atlantic ocean.  Laughter as the other Americans decide Darren and I should star in a bank heist movie together.  Then, we pass an alpaca farm, and Darren slams on the brakes. "Alpacas!  I've never seen them in real life!"  We stop and spend twenty minutes with the herd.  A Frenchman and his two children, Charles and Marguerite, join us.  Little Marguerite, undaunted, runs to the alpacas and attempts to feed them.  They remain cautiously curious.

Alpacas do not like oat cakes, it would seem.

Onwards we go, to the Cliffs of Moher.  Our resident Dubliner chides us for incorrectly pronouncing the Cliffs as More.  "It's Mo-HER, lads!"

An unusually sunny yet predictably windy day greets us at the top of the cliffs.  Grateful for the sunshine and powerful winds, we wander slowly along the cliffs, stopping to lay in the grass or photograph another amazing perspective, different enough from the one provided just a few hundred feet before.

Too soon, we must be on our way.  Our journey ends at the bus station in Ennis, from which I head south to begin my next journey in County Kerry.  A heartfelt farewell, complete with car horn honking and excited waving out passenger windows, pushes my fellow travelers back to Galway and then to Dublin for their final two days in this wonderful country.

The adventure continues, and God gives abundant gifts.

All Creation shall sing

Senior Portrait Freedom: Class of 2017!

Stories are fascinating.  The roads that others walk, with all the twists and turns and ups and downs, are always a wonder to glimpse.

That’s one reason why I enjoy taking portraits for high school seniors.  It’s a gift to hear a bit about my clients’ plans and dreams and the next step they’re contemplating as they apply to and choose a college.

Only 10 sessions this year! Let's capture your story and have a grand time doing so.

This fall, I’ll be booking ten senior portrait sessions for the class of 2017.  Senior Portrait Freedom is what I call it, and it’s a chance for you to preserve some memories and capture this time in life - an exciting jumping-off point into new adventures.

It’s something of a conversation, where I simply happen to have a camera.  We’ll explore your favorite park, or the historic district of Ellicott City, or any of a number of interesting places.  Bring your instrument, sports equipment, pet dog, favorite book, whatever you like.  Bring some outfits that you think look fantastic on you.  My aim is to capture some great images that your family and friends will love, and to make the portrait process a great time - because there’s enough stress and busyness as it is during Senior year!

Interested?  Contact me and you can stop by the studio for fifteen minutes or so to meet me and see more of my work.  I can get to know you and your needs as well.  If you like, we can schedule your session, and have a grand time taking your portraits.  A bit later, I’ll help you choose your favorite images.  You can get them printed on your own time, or I can handle the work for you: canvas prints for the wall, wallet-sized to hand out to friends, even graduation announcements and party invites for later in the year.

I’m here to help you commemorate your senior year with great images that memorialize this special time in your story.

Let’s go!  And act fast - I've got a limited number of slots!

Eire Calling

I grew up being told I would study abroad in college.  There wasn't any choice in the matter.  It was going to happen.

Somehow, it was the music of Ireland that called me to that country.  I remember watching the VHS tapes of Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance in elementary school.  I chose the Chieftains for my seventh grade music class project.  My aunt kept buying me tin whistles and such for Christmas.

It made sense, then, to study there in the fall of 2009.  After fighting my college for the chance to go (mechanical engineers at Virginia Tech rarely go to Ireland to study), I made it to the National University of Ireland, Galway.

A wonderful four months of learning, friendships, and travel. 

Now I go again, invited by one of those friends I made nearly seven years ago. 

Torc Waterfall, Killarney

The first week will be an adventure as a camp counselor, walking through the Parables of Jesus with a large group of middle school-aged youngins.  Having spent hardly any time with twelve-year-olds in the past decade, this will be a bit of a jump into some sort of deep end.  Bring it.  I'll be with Nathan and Jenna again, as well as a whole mess of people that will be my friends in just a few days time.

After that, a photography tour.  Hire a car, they say.  Find a hostel, find a pub, find the craic, go on lad, get on with it.  Yes, cheers, thanks a million.  The Ring of Kerry beckons and, should some miracle occur, so do the winding steps of Skellig Michael (book your tour three months in advance, not three weeks, because Star Wars).

A retreat as well.  For the busyness here at home can eat up one's soul, even begin to suffocate it without one knowing.  Step away and breathe again.  Listen to the quiet voice in the wind who has much to say to you, dear child, if you would only pause from your striving and worrying and

simply

listen.

Inishmore, September 2009

Pokédemic?

It had been eight days since Patient Zero.

Eight days since Pokémon Go was unleashed upon the world and some sort of social transformation happened nearly overnight....

I find myself on the way to Folky Fridays in Old Ellicott City, looking to relax with some friends and perhaps have a bit of adventure.  Having been released from the somewhat insular world of the Nine-to-Five, I am taken aback by the sudden change in my surroundings.  As I drive up Main Street, I see groups of two or three or six, mostly high school and college age, all glued to their phones.  Some with backpacks wield extra battery packs, wires spewing forth.  Never have I seen the sidewalks as crowded on any other given Friday evening.

Finally caught my Zubat.

I snag a parking space near the central stoplight and start off to Tonge Row.  More people are milling about here, index fingers swiping furiously on touch screens.  I run into Dan, a summer theatre friend.  We chat a while as he captures a Zubat on the thirtieth try.  "I've used all my Pokéballs," he moans.  Middle schoolers ask us which team we are on - I learn that there are three teams and opponents can battle one another at local gyms, which might be a church or some random building.  All around us, on grassy hills and any available seating, are phone-wielding Pokémon trainers.  Two port-a-johns are set up in the parking lot so these crowds might find some relief.

Stephanie arrives, followed shortly by Justin and Nathan.  We move to a nearby table, straddling two distinct worlds of Americana music lovers on one side and pocket monster collectors on the other.  We talk, observing the crowd of nearly forty people staring at their phones.  A group of young men attempt to sell water from their tailgate cooler.  A dating couple sits nearby, independently catching Pokémon together.

We are joined by Rachel, just finishing her shift at work.  She is intrigued by the fact that we are having a real conversation amongst ourselves, phones securely out of sight.  So she joins us and becomes a friend.

Emotions are Running High.

I have my camera out, as does Justin.  Nikki notices and steps away from her cadre of Pokémaniacs and comes to ask us about them before pitching a videographer job at the Otakon Animé convention.  Justin, intrigued, gives her his contact info.  She joins us awhile, and then her posse drifts on to the next Pokéstop.

Nighttime falls.  We are surrounded by the orange glow of street lamps and the blue glow of mobile devices.

It's like Fourth of July Fireworks without the explosions or cheering!

It's time for second dinner at Cacao Lane, so we begin the walk down the hill.  On the sidewalk are messages in chalk:

10% for Pokémon Go players!

Look up! Real Artwork Right Here!

I spy another summer theatre friend, hunched over his phone while seated on a storefront stoop, and call him by name as I pass him by.  He hears nothing.  Our group of five surrounds him.  "Situational Awareness, man!" we say, laughing.  After a brief catch-up, we continue on our way.

Dinner at Cacao Lane is an enjoyable experience, but now it's time to head on home.  We enter again the mysterious world of Pokémon Go.  Larger groups now wander, five or seven clustered together searching for prey.  Two girls wander into the middle of the street, intent on capture, automobiles be scorned.

The Teeming Hordes bring blessings upon local businesses

I remain astounded at this sudden change to the local economy and the average per capita level of exercise our town is now seeing.  A new medium of interaction with our surroundings and with each other.  What shall come of it?

We place bets as to the date of the first #PokémonGoWedding, say our goodbyes, and head home.

#Pokémarriage ?