World War II veteran Dr. Quentin Smith holds a replacement congressional medal honoring the Tuskegee Airmen awarded to him during a ceremony held at City Hall in Gary, Ind., Friday, April 20, 2012. Smith, 93, fought in World War II as part of the famed 99th Fighter Squadron. Smith’s original medal was stolen when his home was burglarized last summer.
I’m a nostalgia junkie. As many of my close friends can attest, I have a very keen memory for events I’ve experienced and special people I’ve met throughout the years. In fact, part of the reason I enjoy photography so much is that, other than allowing others to see the world through my eyes, I get to freeze my life – moment by moment – and hold onto those moments indefinitely. The photos in my archive act as keys to the doors which my memories are tucked behind, unlocking the enjoyable adventures, arduous struggles, and unforgettable smiles that are allowed to live on forever.
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Lightning strikes Lake Michigan offshore of the Chicago skyline as seen from Whihala Beach in Whiting, Ind., Thursday, May 3, 2012.
This past October, I found myself on the stage of a local theater, having a one-on-one production meeting with the director of a show I was lighting there. Set pieces, still in various stages of completion, became the walls of our impromptu meeting room. We canvassed the stage together and discussed specific lighting cues planned for different moments in the script.
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Fireworks explode in the sky over Monroe Harbor and Lake Michigan near Navy Pier in Chicago, Ill., Wednesday, July 4, 2012.
Ask anyone who’s known me beyond my recently-accepted adulthood, and they’ll confirm the early existence of my strong entrepreneurial spirit. A fine example of this comes from the summers I spent mowing lawns with my Auntie JoDee between my sixth and eighth grade years. Starting in the spring time, every Saturday morning, I’d pedal my Huffy to her house a block away and fuel up the silver Craftsman grass annihilator. My aunt and I would make quick work of not only her front and back yards, but those of two other homes on Olcott Ave. As compensation, I’d receive anywhere from 10 to 20 dollars, which was a decent chunk of weekly change at age 12.
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Microwave truck towers on display between the central and south halls of the Las Vegas Convention Center during the NAB show held in Las Vegas, Nevada, Wednesday, April 18, 2012.
There’s a certain, unmistakable camaraderie that exists among people involved in all of the fields that I work in. Even if I’ve just met a fellow photographer or lighting designer, working with them on a complex show or shoot within minutes of a first hand shake, there’s always a mutual respect and understanding right off the bat — something that might take months to form with an average person off the street. No, I’m not saying we can’t be on the same wavelength if you’re not involved in a visual profession! But, you might have to wait out front while the in-crowd is ducking into the VIP entrance of my brain.
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