2026

Impromptu Portraits

We had the weekend in Chicago – just the two of us, two whole days to make some good trouble.

My wife, Jaime, is starting to put herself out there as a business owner. She’s a music therapist, so many of her professional portraits feature a guitar of some sort.

With her new enterprise, she wanted some professional images without an instrument. 

So we wandered around Chicago’s loop, walked inside some boutique hotel lobbies, and made some headshots before we got kicked out.

And it was fun. We felt like two teenagers who, at any moment, were going to get caught somewhere they shouldn’t have been.

There was one high-end luxury hotel in particular where I felt the lobby desk’s eyes were on us. But in each location, nothing happened. We got off scot-free. 

The photos? They were just what Jaime was looking for – wardobe changes and all.

If there’s a lesson here, it’s that you should use your photography superpowers to help people, especially people you know and love.

Take them up on their creative idea. You might have a great time doing it. 

All images shot on the Canon EOS M6 and a few EF-M lenses.

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Chicago In Winter

It wasn’t our first time in Chicago during the winter.

This time, we were in town for the weekend to see Brandi Carlile and, the next day, wander into downtown Chicago for some new headshots for my wife (more on those later).

Wandering the streets around The Loop, I couldn’t help but grab some pictures. 

All images shot on the Canon EOS M6 and a few EF-M lenses.

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When Light Feels Like Memory

This Christmas, we were sitting with some family and going through some of my annual photo books. 

“I tend to take my camera everywhere,” I told my mother-in-law as she relived the past few years through pictures. Some of those photo albums featured her, either at birthday parties or on a family trip to Wisconsin.

Looking through those photo books, all those ordinary moments feel anything but ordinary when you see them again.

As we turned the pages, I realized how much of what I remember is tied to the light of a place.

Light ends up highlighting how a scene, location, or event felt. Not just how it looked, but how I remember it: the warmth on a Lake Michigan beach. The quiet of a winter afternoon. The way a place said “home.”

In the winter, I always watch for the familiar light to return to the south side of the house. When it’s cold out, the light makes its merry way across the walls and floors again. When it shows up, I try to notice and capture it.

Looking back at old photos, I realize how much I miss the big picture window in our previous home’s living room (above). We made so many memories there. Morning light spilling in. Late afternoon shadows. Kids on the floor or the couch.

Quiet moments that felt small then, but feel enormous now.

Over the years, I knew that old house’s light and followed it according to the seasons.

In this house, the light is different. It arrives at different times, from different angles, and I’ve learned to take advantage of it where and when I can.

That’s part of why it helps to take a camera everywhere, or keep one on me at all times. I try to notice the light when it shows up and grab it while it’s there.

Then, when we look back, we’re not just seeing a photo; we are reliving how that light made the moment feel.

 

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