I love this one of Tom. His look, that little feather. This version of it is from a scan of a medium-format negative, but in the darkroom the other night, I was trying to print on paper from the negative. I guess you can sort-of see the problems with the photo even here, though my print photos didn't turn out as good as this. It was so bright out, and I had his face in shadow and after 4 or 5 versions we decided that this print was best for illustrating why I might want to use fill flash outside on bright days. The right exposure for his face is the wrong exposure for the background and never the twain shall meet. That's what it all boils down to.
My day job felt a little like that this week. The impossibility of it all had been baked in from the start, or something. I've noticed that I think about all that differently these days, now that I have the mini-farm and mortgage to look after. This is both good and bad, a sense of greater purpose as well as a little fear at the heaviness of it all. Heading into the weekend, the overall feeling is that my own life needs me, and that hour drive home is a good time to shed whatever work energy might be clinging to me when I walk out the door in the evenings. Once I turn on to Cook Road, it's time to be ready to pet the dog, and survey all the little changes that take place over a week on an acre of land, to look out for the bald eagles that have come back to our trees and to pay enough attention to notice and fall even more in love with everything that's there.