Art, Photography & Creativity.

When the Light Does All the Talking.

Boys,
You’ve both seen me stand still for long stretches of time — camera in hand, eyes narrowed, doing what probably looks like nothing at all.
Sometimes you’ve asked, “Dad, what are you looking at?”
And I’ve smiled, because the truth is, I’m not always sure. I’m just waiting.

Waiting for the light to speak.

Light doesn’t rush. It doesn’t care about our schedules or moods. It moves at its own rhythm — quietly, confidently — changing everything it touches, without ever raising its voice.

When I was younger, I tried to control it. I chased the perfect frame, the perfect sky, the perfect tone. But the more I chased, the more it slipped away.
It took me years to learn that my best photographs weren’t taken when I was trying hardest, but when I finally stopped trying.

Light doesn’t need direction. It needs patience.

And so does life.

Lately, it’s been a joy watching both of you discover this in your own way.
First, Tito, when you opened your Polaroid on Christmas morning — that spark in your eyes, that first click of curiosity.
And now Ico, when you received yours — not for a celebration, but for something far more meaningful.
You’d been brave in a moment when courage wasn’t easy. I saw it in your eyes at the hospital — the quiet kind of strength that doesn’t make a sound but fills the room.
That Polaroid wasn’t a gift for what you went through, but for how you went through it.

It’s been fun — and quietly moving — to see you both wander around trying to capture your own worlds.

Sometimes your photos are crooked, sometimes they’re perfect without meaning to be. But every single one of them carries what I hope you’ll never lose: your own way of seeing.

That’s what photography really is. Not perfection — presence.
The moment when you stop trying to make something happen and instead notice that it already is.

You’ll learn this again and again in life.
When things feel uncertain, when you don’t know what comes next, remember what light taught us — it always arrives when it’s ready, not when you demand it.

And sometimes, if you’re patient enough, it will do all the talking.
You just have to be there to listen.

Love,
Dad