my five-year old photo assistant

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Henrik and I spent the weekend taking little jaunts around Dant to shoot photographs with my polaroid cameras. Unfortunately those didn’t work out so well, but these black and whites did.

I love the shot of Henrik checking our work and the one where he has my camera slung around his neck. Looking forward to our next “assignment”!

nine years ago

Nine years ago today I woke up to a stunningly beautiful September morning in Connecticut. It was sunny, clear and crisp and fall was in the air. Summer was trying to hang on, and I was looking forward to the day since Anne and I would have the office to ourselves. Our colleagues were on the road in Washington and Pennsylvania, and I’d be spending the day pulling things together to join them in the capitol the next day.

Just a couple hours later the whole day changed, and the whole world changed with it. September 11th rocked me to the core. It took years for me to overcome the anxiety I felt when remembering that day.

Living in densely populated Fairfield County I was surrounded by people who worked in the city. My typical evening commute was characterized by driving bumper to bumper on I-95 or being crammed like a sardine on the outbound New Haven commuter train. But that afternoon, the afternoon of September 11th, the interstate was empty. The trains weren’t running. The emptiness combined with the silence of no flights overhead was eerie and surreal. I will never forget.

My heart continued to break with each passing moment as the reality of the events sunk in. As Anne and I listened to coverage on the radio and helped our colleagues find a way to get back home we just couldn’t visualize the destruction the terrorists had left in their wake. It was truly unbelievable. Only that night as I sat in my living room in tears watching coverage of the day’s events, did I start to realize the hole that had been carved out of our country.

To this day I am grateful for two things. One is that I had Anne with me that day. I could not have made it through without her. And two, that I was able to go into Manhattan many times over the next several years, watch it heal, and help it grow stronger.

I fell in love with New York City when I lived there in the early 90s, and I fell in love with it all over again a decade later beginning on September 11th, 2001. Love is the only thing I know that heals loss.

Max, Dior, Anne & Jeromy during one of our weekends in the city.

it must be love

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This, being the finals weekend at the US Open, is one of my favorites of the year. It’s also bittersweet. As much as I love this tournament I also know it’s the last grand slam of the year.

The glory season of tennis, which spans from the European clay courts in spring to the hot fast courts of NYC in the summer, is almost over. As I watch Rafael Nadal make his way through the last grand slam of the year I try to soak up every moment, watching the matches live (usually in person, but this year on the tele), listening to them at the office, in the car, or walking around town on my iphone (thank you apple – your technology is a sports fan’s friend), and following all the in-depth coverage in the NY Times.

With today’s win Rafael Nadal has made it to his first US Open final. Tomorrow he’ll meet Novak Djokovic or Roger Federer (please let it be Roger) for a chance to win a career grand slam at the young age of 24. He’d be one of the youngest players in history to meet that achievement. So in honor of Rafa here are some of my favorite photos that I’ve taken over the years.