My interest in photography came from watching my mother take photos. She had an old Rolleiflex that only she understood. It was square and boxy with two lenses on the front and some knobs on the sides. The magical thing about this camera is that you had to look down into a prism to take the photo – before an LCD screen even existed, many photographers had grown to love the experience of framing their shots in that lovely square box – it was like watching a TV screen.

This camera is substantial in your hands. That texture on the sides is actually leather.

Mom’s camera was just a bit newer than this one – it was probably from the 1950s. One day in my early teens we were on a trip with some other girls and their moms when she decided to show me how it worked. It wasn’t something she trusted me to take off with it, but that day I saw photography differently – somehow in my mind it shifted from capturing snapshots to making something look great on that screen. With the Rollei you had to move – there was no zoom or macro settings – you moved until the object you wanted to highlight was in focus. I think that early experience is why I love to shoot primes today. When I studied photography in college, mom entrusted me with not only her Rollei, but her new Pentax to use in my classes. I think it was at this time that I really understood photography as art – not just in the shooting of images, but in the processing and developing of film – the making of images.

Now my mom was a super-talented woman who never saw herself as an exceptional. She was a master pattern cutter, seamstress, and tailor. I would show her two dresses I liked – I would like the bodice on one and the skirt on the other – we would go home and she would make me a dress that was the perfect combination of the two. Her doodles on the phone book looked like the sketches you see designers make when developing fashion concepts. She was an amazing cook. She would try something new and then go home and figure out how to make it. She was exceptional in so many creative ways. If I were to call her a photographer she would probably cringe – but I look at her shots and I know that she had some skills. These aren’t etherial landscapes or anything like that – just shots of family and friends.

My mother always told me to sit like a young lady – seeing this capture of my crazy legs, she was spot on in her assessment.

This shot of Max captures his thoughtful nature. He shares her love of reading and deeper thinking about the meaning of life.

I know that my mom loved the irony of my father playing “mountain man” in the shadow of the Montgomery Wards.

Ron was the one who loved to dress up, and mom always supported his love of style, but I think she may also have had blackmail in mind with this shot.

Mom took this shot of me after my new brother Max came home from the hospital, I think he is sleeping behind me while I make faces for the camera. Mom never let me feel like I was less important because there was a new baby.

Max sneaking and stealing Pop’s hat. While all eyes were on me running barrels, Max makes a little mischief and mom catches it. She took photos of me on a horse running that day, but this is the best shot of the day.

Mom’s sense of the silly or ironic would not let her miss this shot of me walking a skunk on a leash in a circle of teepees. This shot pretty much sums up the flavor of my childhood.

It’s really tough to get a nice blue sky in bright sun like this, especially when you are shooting a completely manual camera – nice exposure! Seriously, My mom had a sense of humor and she loved to catch guys like Rick acting like fools. Even so, it’s a good photo.

My brothers, one a thinker and one a little impulsive. I love this photo so much – she nailed it. Plus stopping action with the Rollei was not a simple task.

Why my mother loved to contrast me with large objects as a child is still a mystery to me. I also have a shot of me as an infant with a slice of ham covering me like a blanket. Big baby, big object…

Mom showed me what depth of field was on that first outing with the Rollei – she looked at shots with that in mind. Ron through the cage of the race car. Her little boy all grown up.

This is just a cool shot of a teepee with a sky scene painted on the flaps – I like how she lined it up so that the sky was in the sky – but I like her skill at capturing the sky and the foreground with equal detail.

This Mother’s Day, like all days I miss her. She left us far too soon, but her mark on our lives was indelible.

She’s always with you. She’s the sound of bacon crackling in a skillet on Saturday morning. She’s the aroma of the lilacs and magnolias in the spring. She’s your breath in the air on a cold winter’s day. She’s the sound of the rain on the roof that lulls you to sleep, the colors of the rainbow; she is Christmas morning. She is the place where you came from, your first home, and she’s the map you follow with every step you take. She’s your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy, but nothing on earth can separate you – not time, not space, not even death. 

Shutterbug Notes:

You can learn a lot from looking at old photos. As your skill grows you can appreciate the skill it took to make them work. You can also learn a lot about shooting from the heart – to not so much try to capture what something looks like, but what it feels like. It’s more that skill that makes a great image – it needs heart.