California

Sometimes I mind the tame way people hold each other. Here it seems to me that the man is merely lolling around the girl and the girl only has the barest grasp of him, almost as though she's holding just his t-shirt. You can't feel someone the way she is holding him, with her half clenched fist. There is not much lust here. Well, of course there may not have been. I think I will ask them when I see them again. "Are you just friends?" 

Anyway, I have promoted this photograph into my favorites list because of her dress, their matching slimness and his pride (or is it challenge?) — the slightly raised chin.

Contentment at Homespun

As the world knows, every other person in Beacon, NY is a refugee from Brooklyn. Our acquaintance who makes cowboy boots and children's shoes, and who recently moved into a loft in Newburgh (across the river) said, "When you can't afford to live in Bushwick, you know it's over." I wonder if these two once came from Brooklyn?

Carlo and Monica with friend

I was photographing this young couple when we heard the tap and shuffle of cane and slippers. A man in a white shirt appeared. He spoke to my subjects, engaging them so that they no longer were paying attention to me. I asked him if he would like to join the group for a photograph. 

Grandfather

Caroline's grandfather spent more 20 years of his life in Brazil, away from his wife and family. When he came home to Malvito in Southern Italy, every day he walked the mile to the church and back. This was up a very steep hill. He was 99 years-old when he died.