Thanksgiving is of course a day for reflection and gratitude, doubly so when it’s also one’s 47th birthday. Mine started with breakfast in bed, courtesy of my beautiful kids and my lovely wife. Tabasco the Brittany wasn’t able to snatch my bacon—sorry fella, it’s MY day.
After that, I spent a few hours photographing alone—a long-term project of mine, one which has yet to really coalesce in my head. I even got ejected from two deserted malls by two different Mall Cops, the first of whom ratted me out by radio to the second. Any day containing multiple photo-trespassing evictions is by definition a fine one.
So what am I thankful for? My heart is so full, I almost don’t know where to start. My wife, whose love, support, and patience are a wonder. My children, whose lives, health, and happiness are the greatest gifts bestowed upon me. Our comfort and safety, and the ability to look after my family the way I want to. Family, scattered about the country though we might be. Friends, both those who’ve been there for the long haul, and those who’ve extended their hands and hearts to me anew this year. To all, I say a heartfelt “thank you.” You are never taken for granted.
One more high five for my wife, for allowing me the time and solitude to indulge this passion that consumes so much of my time and mindspace. Any success with it I might have enjoyed, or might ever hope to enjoy, is as much hers as my own.
Happy Thanksgiving all.