My Dad is coming to visit tomorrow. He is the reason I became a photographer. I remember sitting in the darkroom with him when I was a kid and watching all the images appear as if by magic. My job was to stand on the pedal that turned the red light on. Very important stuff. I'm in a show this weekend so I'm excited he's going to be here and we can go together.
Above are images I found recently. When my sister was about a month old, my dad and mother took a month long road trip in their convertible. They just put her in a basket on the floor by my mothers feet.
That kind rocks.
Katrina, I am sure you don't remember me. I think the last time I saw you, you were about six years old. I visited your mom for a week in Reno. That same trip was the last time I saw your dad. He was driving a Porsche as I recall. I knew you parents in Springfield, IL. I saw your mom a couple of times after that. She and Mark met me in San Francisco in 1978 and I spent a few days at their home in Reno in the spring of 1987. We had reconnected through the internet about 5 or 6 years ago and sent occasional notes back and forth. I sent her Steve Jobs graduation speech at Standford (I think) and she replied that it had come at a good time because she had just found out about her cancer diagnosis. I thought a lot of both of your parents. I still occasional use their definition of religion -- something invented by the Hammond Organ people. My sons are close to your and Rebecca's ages -- Ben and Rebecca were just days apart and you're about 6 months older than my youngest son. We shared overlapping pregnancies. Anyway, I follow your photography on the internet when I have time. I teach art and photography and do a little professional work myself. Take care. Say hello to your dad for me...I was Sally Watkins when I knew them in Springfield. I enjoy your blog. Sally Van Natta
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