Moroccan Rain

I run my fingers gently over my arm from wrist to crook. New hairs have sprouted where the arm was shaved, and their short sharpness creates electricity on the pads of my fingertips. The skin is raised slightly where the needles have done their beautiful damage, and a new layer of skin reclaims the surface and drinks in the cool, …

The Man in the Box

(This story originally appears as a chapter in Don’s book, “Being Seen: Witnessing the Feminine Through the Lens of Love.“)   I squinted at the young soldier in the photo, longing to know him. Fear defined his features and gave him shape, but it wasn’t the expected fear of what may come. This was the thick, clinging fear of what …

Living Through the Avatar

When I find myself alone in places like airports and restaurants, I often use the time to observe humanity and the fascinating behaviors that we have. I especially can’t help myself when I see people taking selfies. Everyone does it, of course, but I see both subtle and not-so-subtle differences between how it’s done that are seemingly based on age …

Photogenic

My studio was set up in a banquet room in a hotel near Dublin, Ireland, and I was working with participants from a women’s conference that was being conducted that weekend. I took a little extra time setting up the lights and taking test photos so that Michela could get used to the mobile studio…the backdrops, the gear, the flashing …