My father was a professional photographer, illustrator, ad man, and filmmaker. He photographed Charles Lindbergh and other famous people, but his favorite subjects were my blonde mother, sisters, and me. My dad died when I was 3, so everything I know or made up about him came from a lifetime of studying his prints.
My sisters were a lot older than I, so they didn’t need pictures to jog their memories. I was so young when he died that I still believed in magical thinking. You know, “step on a crack” kinds of thoughts. My father achieved immortality for me through his photographs. At 13, Brownie Starflash in hand, I photographed everyone I loved to insure their permanence, and I never stopped.
The Starflash became a Nikon 35mm, which became a DSLR, while my own darkroom got better safe lights, a real sink, and suddenly an iMac appeared on my desk. I breathe photography. Yes, I know that capturing image doesn’t keep people from leaving me. But, it comes close. When photographing people, an immediate intimacy happens that stays in my heart through the archived moment. I love everything about photography.
I have immersed myself in photography projects like, They Come and They Go; a series documenting everyone from UPS drivers to first cousins who visit me, “keeping track” showcasing objects relating to memory, or Loving Aunt Ruth; a 3-year odyssey into the life of my aunt, the last of my mother’s family that turned into a book with a possible 2013 release. I am interested in memory, time, impermanence, and love.
In 2007, my oldest sister moved to live near her daughters. I photographed her packing and the truck taking her away, and her move prompted a feeling of urgency in me to get closer to my Aunt Ruth. I asked Aunt Ruth if I could photograph her for a book without imaging a “real” book was possible. At the time, I was probably thinking of a photo album. She said, “Sure, I’ll have a party, and you can meet all of my friends.”
Loving Aunt Ruth is the culmination of everything for which I have cared: family, story, respect, hardship, triumph, humor, and my work as a photographer. Since the book began with a party, I chose to end it with one. My Aunt’s 90th birthday was a beautiful place to close a journey that we began together. Aunt Ruth had 165 people of all ages, ethnicities, and religions to her party. I only “know” that many people on Facebook!
My father left me the legacy of an understanding of photography’s power which opened the door to my understanding of Aunt Ruth whose philosophy of living life guided by loving and caring for people has changed mine forever.
In the last year, both of my sisters have died. Aunt Ruth offered me comfort and wisdom. I asked her how she stays determined in the face of so much loss. She said, “I have my faith, and I have a will to live…that will comes from loving people.”
Image and words courtesy of Honey Lazar. Discover more about her and read more about her Aunt Ruth on her blog.
Sunday, December 30, 2012 by 
