With my families, I try to walk the line between unobtrusively catching them interacting with each other and making concessions to photography, the fact that it’s not a natural situation and it’s hard to interact wholly and without reserve. Most parents want a photograph where everyone is looking at the camera. And I’ll do it. It’s just not what I love, not what makes me swoon, not what’s going to leave an imprint.
And on most of the holiday cards I receive, everyone’s dressed up in their skirts and their boots, and their hair is done and they’re taken to locations where they’re photographed, and the Photoshop actions are run and their skin is warmed to yellow, and it’s all very pretty. And I hang all these cards up because I love them and I love to see my friends. Except it doesn’t really look like them. It doesn’t capture who they are and what I love about them.
I’d prefer not to see your boys in matching polo shirts, or see you in a dress you bought specifically for this occasion from Anthropology.
That’s the thing: it’s not an occasion – it’s your life. And it’s what I love to see.