Dancer and choreographer Asia Dickens poses for a portrait at Marquette Beach in Gary, Indiana. The ability to make your subject laugh is often helpful in capturing honest, relaxed moments.

It’s been a while since I shared one of those career-suicide morsels of truth with you all, and with summer slowly melting into fall, I figured now was as good a time as any to boost the confidence of you new-comers to the photography world. So, here goes: Posing people for portraits was, and sometimes is, a very awkward thing for me to deal with on a shoot.

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Gothic revival limestone elements are flanked by trees in a courtyard outside the sanctuary of City Methodist Church in downtown Gary, Ind., Sunday, August 8, 2010.

In a recent visit to the ruins of Gary’s abandoned City Methodist Church, I was reminded yet again why this has quickly become one of my favorite places to explore through a lens. There is always something new to discover, even with less than a month since my previous visit. The structure continually melts away and morphs into more abstract forms, much like a sand castle gradually being eroded by the incoming tide. The man-made elements continue to fight a fleeting battle against mother’s nature’s unstoppable organic soldiers. Platoons of trees flank the north end of the sanctuary while troops of green ivy advance against the red bricks high overhead. The scars of war are ever increasing, and sadly, one day, the church will lose the fight. For groups of urban explorers from around the world, Gary’s City Methodist has proved to be one of the finest battle studies in existence.

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AeroShell Aerobatic Team pilot Steve Gustafson of Tallulah, La., flies a World War II era AT-6 Texan aircraft in a formation over Lake Michigan near Marquette Park Beach in Gary, Ind., during the Gary South Shore Air Show, Saturday, July 10, 2010. This image was shot with a Go Pro Hero HD camera mounted to the wing, set to capture a still image once every two seconds.

Far in the distance, though the hazy blanket of hot summer night air, they greet my eyes as shimmering, golden orbs far on the horizon. A rising planet? A star? Something from beyond our solar system? I start to get nervous, “This might be it, Guy, remain calm.” With my eyes now keenly fixed on the target, the shimmering golden color begins to ascend into a brilliant white as the orb rises higher into the sky. OK, it’s not a star, definitely not a planet

Henry Colquitt of Chicago, Ill., consoles his daughter Jackie Colquitt, 13, outside the late singer Michael Jackson’s childhood home at 2300 Jackson St. in Gary, Ind., Friday, June 25, 2010. A ceremony unveiling a monument took place at the home Friday, commemorating the first anniversary of the singer’s death.

There’s a select few events in our country’s history that have created defining, indelible memories in the minds of those who lived through them. People can tell you exactly where they were and what they were doing when the news of these events broke. When I was a child, these events were often ones relegated to our parents’ memories, and passed along like cherished, historic heirlooms. They told of being curled up in front of black and white TV sets watching Neil Armstrong take his first steps on the moon, or of school teachers running into classrooms in tears with the news that John F. Kennedy had been assassinated.

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