... and we'll all be glad when Johnny comes marching home.

After class this morning I decided to head over to the art museum to bum around for a while. As I got to the parking lot, a small crowd was slowly dispersing across the street. Earlier, there had been a homecoming ceremony welcoming back a military unit. Got to chatting with a family whose car I parked next to (that's my Mirth-mobile behind them), and whose son returned home from Iraq. Offered to take a family photo and email it to them:



It felt good to take a picture with some actual meaning. Nothing big or staged or produced or posed. No clever technical trickery. No studio lighting or backdrops. It's not for any personal credit, and most importantly, it's not for any project at school. It's just a quick snapshot in passing that spent all of two minutes in Photoshop.

...but it's a grave and wonderful moment in this random family's history preserved, and has helped restore and solidify my sense of what it means to be a photographer.