• The Last Goodbye

    Since the day I got the call from his son, the one he named after me, I have been thinking about the last few seconds of his life. He was sitting in his vehicle, the muzzle of the gun pressed against his flesh, and somewhere deep inside, he found...
  • Kwamane Is Gone

    The day Ana and I became trained and licensed foster parents, we naively stepped into a strange dichotomous world. It’s a place where some view a singular event as unfair, cripplingly painful, and wrong, yet it is just and immensely joyful to others. We have been selfless heroes doing...
  • Garbageman

    We hear his big truck first. The low rumble of his heavy-duty engine as the truck methodically works its way down the block. Then you hear the hydraulic whine of the mechanical arm as it lifts the garbage bins high in the air, then flips them over and dumps...
  • Falling In Love Again

    I retired from commercial photography a few years ago, so I don’t do as many photoshoots now as I once did. It’s better this way. When I do work, I feel a passion for it like I did years ago before the dollars became more important than the art....
  • Love Is…

    We get up early at our house. Some days are inspired by the vigor and resolve that dawn lends to a fresh new day, and others by nothing more than rigorous discipline. And then there are the days that begin well before sunrise and any pre-determined time when we...
  • Shot Show

    Once upon a time in a land far away, I carried a gun and a badge to work each day and served the good citizens of our city. Along with eating donuts and drinking coffee, the exceptional professionals of our Police Department were tasked with doing the routine jobs...
  • See Ya 2019, You Couldn’t Break Me

    To all that choose to stop by and soak up the work I post here, thank you for being there. Without you, there would be no one to write for, shoot pictures for, and create the podcasts and videos that I love to create. Without you, I wouldn’t spend...
  • Doing The Impossible

    She was on the street hustling drugs when she was fourteen, and pregnant with her first child. Her dad wasn’t anywhere to be found. Her mom was in and out of prison, everybody was in her world, or dead. She was born into the gang. As she explains it...
  • Coming Home

    Some stories are harder to tell than others. This one is both heartwarming and tragic. For those that don’t know, my wife Ana and I are foster parents. One year ago we got a call about two little girls aged one and two. The Department Of Family Services was...
  • Moving On

    Later on today Ana will pull a suitcase from the closet. She’ll pick a big one, but only one, because everything that’s important has to fit into it and a second bag just isn’t in the budget. The rest will stay here and will get shipped later. She will...
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