If this pandemic has been good for one thing, it has forced people to be home and explore alternative ways to complete work projects, keep making art, and generating a living. For musicians, especially, the world of performing came to a grinding halt with little opportunity to collaborate with other artists due to travel restrictions. But it’s also led to creative solutions that have allowed musicians to collaborate in ways that they may not have otherwise. I was surprised (though I shouldn’t have been) to hear that Shane Becker of Indian Run music has been busy behind the scenes not only producing his own music but helping other artists in the production end, and is as busy as ever in his home studio.
Although I love and appreciate good music, I know nothing about all of the cables, synthesizers, microphones, and instruments that Shane has carefully organized in his at home studio, but I do know that I find it incredibly tempting not to touch all the buttons. All of the colors and elements and design make them so visually interesting for me, so when he invited me over to help with some images, I told Shane ahead of time to grab his notes + notebooks, and objects that were of personal importance in his music production. I had an idea in my head of how we could make a really bold, graphic type image that would showcase the story behind Shane’s music production and the elements that drive his creativity. We played around with different combinations of objects + instruments and as we moved things around, Shane was actually playing songs that he either had been working on or was just creating on the fly. These are the stories behind the images that make them work + give them soul, and in a way, you can feel the energy of his music in the images. My original vision was the first set of images above, but when I looked back at my contact sheet, I re-worked some of the types to bring in all images of Shane’s hands busy at work, creating art that has so much of his signature on it. Sometimes, when I say to someone, “so I have this idea . . . “, I cringe on the inside because only I can see how amazing this could be! but it’s not always easy to get the idea out of my head and onto a print. In this case, I’m grateful for the trust of a friend, because it turned out exactly how I envisioned it.
I started following Mother Gypsea on Instagram about a year ago after seeing a mutual friend of ours share a post of hers and her #nobadwaves platform of community and positivity in our town of Ocean City, where she shares her laid back beach life with her four (amazing!) kids. Later, I learned that her real name is Sue McElwee after her Christmas tree beach display and large scale seashell creations went viral toward the end of last year. 2020 was brutal for so many people, and Sue’s creative project brought so much hope and happiness to this community. People came from far and wide during the pandemic winter to experience this little piece of magic at the beach for themselves. Sue and her kids collected shells from several local beach towns and left markers and shells for people to write their names, messages, and dreams, and North Street Beach became a frequent stop for us on our winter walks. Sometimes, it’s the simple ideas in life that make such a big impact, especially when done with love.
So although I had been following her and admiring her creativity and her mega-talented kids (surfing + skating), and messaging through Instagram, I hadn’t met her in person until just last week. When we were texting, she said “we usually head out the door by 5:30.” In THE MORNING. You know kids have a passion when they are willing to work hard and get up early to chase it. I remember years ago watching this commercial about moms and their Olympian kids, all the early mornings, the sacrifices, and the encouragement to get up every single time they fell down. Last year, Sue and her husband made their move to Ocean City permanent so their four kids can have the opportunity to surf (and skate) all year round. At 11 and 13, her older boys are incredibly talented at both sports and I had a blast getting to see them in the water. Even at the early hour and the unseasonably cold temperatures on this June morning. But the light was beautiful and the waves were good, so even though the boys were bundled on the sand, they had no hesitation to get into the water and do what they love. And not only are they talented, they are humble, kind, and easy to talk to. After their morning surf, it was donuts, back home, get the other kids and ride to the skate park with a beach afternoon to cap off our time together. I loved getting to know Sue and her family, and every time I photograph a family, I look for the little nuances that make up individual personalities and the relationships they have among one another. Nothing on earth is more beautiful than real life, and I’m honored to have photographed this family and share their story (and made some new friends in the process).
To keep up on all things Ocean City, surfing, skating, and community, go give her a follow!
Summer 2021 is officially in full swing in Ocean City, NJ, with a kind of energy that feels like a celebration of sorts, catching up on all the things we missed during the pandemic. I have a “summer bucket list” in my notes, of all the things we’d like to check off before labor day . . . most of my personal favorites from the list include food indulgences, but we all have our priorities, right?
One thing we always look forward to is the boardwalk, and I have such great family memories of taking our kids for rides, pizza, and ice cream over the years. Documentary family sessions are a great way to preserve those memories, and so I am introducing one hour Boardwalk sessions for summer 2021. It’s a perfect way to document your summer vacation in Ocean City! For pricing and availability, email hello@laurengayeski.com.
Photo by Jess Haverkamp of My Family in Photos
As the resident photographer at home, on vacations, and in larger family gatherings, I noticed there was something (or rather, someone) missing in my photos: ME. When I look at my collection of personal images, I see my own voice and perspective, and I photograph my children in a way that communicates to the viewer how I see them. But that voice doesn’t ever include my face. This isn’t something that bothers me, per se, but what happens when I hand over those neatly organized prints to my children, and there are no images of me being their mother? That is the thought that bothers me.
Because I was there, too.
I find this is a common concern among mothers. We busy ourselves with marking special events like birthday parties, making childhood magical with crafts and games and books and dress up, answering a million “why” questions, teaching and shaping our children to be kind and strong, and collapse with exhaustion at the end of the day. It’s no wonder that we find excuses not to get in the frame. And then there is the issue of how we see ourselves. As a woman who is 100% appalled by the sudden surprise of the front facing camera unexpectedly opening on my iPhone, I will be the first to admit that it’s hard to witness the effects of time, gravity, pregnancy, parenting, and sun damage as they make their marks on my body. I don’t have to like it, but all of it is part of who I am. I may see those things in a photograph of myself at a quick glance, but I also see my joy, my gestures, the way my sons look at me, and deep expression of love in my eyes when I look at them. Collectively, those things say more about me than my wrinkles or stretch marks. And that’s truly the beauty of documentary family photography. Real life is beautiful and I want to hold onto the images that help me remember the places I’ve been, the people I’ve loved, and the life we have built together.
Photographs are an investment, one that I have made as a priority over the years. Because as much as I learn and grow as a photographer, hiring a documentary family photographer is the only way that I can have images of my real life with me actually in them. I want to share some images from those sessions, one just a regular day in our life and two being vacation sessions.
Day in the Life: January 27, 2017
Vacation Photo Session Berlin, Germany: August 11, 2018
Photos by Jess Haverkamp of My Family in Photos
Vacation Photo Session Disney’s Animal Kingdom: February 29, 2020
Photos by Holly Hicks Photography
I believe in the value of documentary family photography, evidenced not only by my own work but my personal investment in images created by other documentary family photographers. To me, these images are worth every penny and more.
Let’s put it this way: if there is a hurricane barreling down the coast where I live and I have to choose what to bring and what to leave behind, my boxes of (organized!) photos and albums are coming with me first. They are my earthly treasures, ones I hope last long enough to be held by my children’s children’s children and beyond. As pandemic restrictions ease up, I am so looking forward to photographing families and their real lives, creating for them what these photographers created for me . . . because when I look at the images, I remember what it felt like to be there.
I believe with my whole heart that a photo isn’t complete until it’s printed, either on paper or in a book, as something you can hold in your hands. These might be strong words coming from a woman with exactly 53,882 photos on my camera roll, but not every photo is print-worthy . . . see exhibit A of my pajama selfie at the bottom. (If you’re wondering why I have so many, I decided I’d rather pay for storage and keep them than have to go through all of them. I know, it’s a problem).
Photographs are made to be printed, kept, and passed down as treasures. And you cannot pass down a digital image to your grandchildren. The overwhelming pressure to print and organize images is only complicated by the sheer volume of photos we have in our personal collections, thanks to the convenience of digital photos. I remember reading “Bending the Frame,” by Fred Ritchen and being truly amazed when he said that “there are as many photographs produced every two minutes today as were made in the entire nineteenth century.”
With that many photos, it can feel like a hopeless task to stay organized, and as a naturally disorganized person, I’ve had to create a system that I find works for me. On my phone, once I edit images in my Lightroom app, I export them to the camera roll. From there, I put my favorites in an album, usually with the title of the year or season. Having them in one place makes it a lot easier to order prints through apps right on your smartphone. At the end of 2020, I made a book of my favorite phone images in a soft book from Artifact Uprising (yes, with a photo of lost dentures in the grocery store parking lot, which seemed to represent a lot of what 2020 felt like).
Images from my camera, edited on my computer, are an entirely different beast. I order prints for my personal collection about 2-3 times a year. When I’m done with edits, I export images to folders based on dates, organized by month and year. When I’m ready, I cull through all the edits and select favorites for prints and export them to a folder where I can keep them all together. At the end of the year, I go back into those folders of my top selections and use those to make a family “yearbook” as I’ve done since 2008 (these two more recent years were made with Artifact Uprising as well).
In preparation for our move this past summer, I got serious about organizing my photos. The more recent photos were already organized, but I had boxes and boxes of photos from high school, with doubles of people I don’t remember, 35mm negatives, and just some really crappy images. I mean, if you see what’s on my 53,000 photo camera roll, can you imagine the garbage I printed from a disposable camera in 1996? It took a long time to go through everything, but I finally sorted through all my images, until I got them into a system that looks like this:
You can find these boxes for prints on Amazon, linked here.
Another way of storing prints is with wooden boxes like these ones. After a family trip, I ordered prints and boxes to hold them and gave them to my kids as a keepsake (they make great gifts and you can find them at most of the labs that make prints).
Things to keep in mind along the way for printing and album making: First, the images don’t have to be perfect. They can be blurry or chopping a hand off at the corner of the frame or a messy composition. In the beginning of this series, I talked about how to make images better through composition. BUT, when it comes to your personal collection, there is only one rule: it has to mean something to you. That’s the only thing that matters. Second, the prints are for your personal collection. Just like not everything needs to be shared publicly, prints have the ability to remain private. Personally, I don’t want to share nude images of my children publicly, but I do have prints of them running around nude when they were smaller. Now that I have teens, on occasion I will make an image of one of my children with the promise that I won’t share that image publicly, but with their permission, I will print those images or insert them into our family albums.
For my 40th birthday in September, my mother made me this beautiful book, spending countless hours scanning old photos so she could give me a piece of the memories we shared from my childhood. It’s the most meaningful gift I’ve ever been given. It doesn’t matter that the prints might be a little grainy or faded from the last 40 years or that the cameras belonging to average families of the 1980’s were limited in their capabilities. The images are snapshots, not taken by a professional, but they represent real moments in my life, people whom I love (and some who are no longer here), and an imperfect family I wouldn’t trade for the world.
Recommendations:
Print labs for good quality prints:
Books (softcover and hardcover):