There’s an old stone house about a half mile up a hill from a cemetery where a lot of my family is buried. Some day, when it’s my time, I want them to plant me there too. Flintoft, Saskatchewan holds a special place in my heart. It’s where the seeds of me began four generations ago when my great grand parents settled in the area after making the crossing from Romania. I feel something in the air there whenever I breath it. I feel the echos of those who came before me.
This evening I found myself with a camera in my hand, breathing that same air once again. I was photographing my friend Lyndzie. I didn’t say much once I started working. She actually commented at one point that I hadn’t said a word for a very long time. I guess my wheels were turning. The photographs came easily. I didn’t fret about the best way to frame her, or how to best capture the light. It all just fell into place. It was as easy as breathing.