I was a little surprised when I got the rolls back and immediately saw a theme.  Nearly all the photos I liked best were kids. I’m not sure if that was just luck of the draw, or if I somehow had a subconscious awkwardness-of-youth thing going on in my head.

Next time, I’ll definitely be trying to get a better balance.  But still, what great faces. It’s always a privilege to be allowed to make a portrait of someone.

These are the first few frames from a new personal project with my antique film camera, intended to help me get over my shyness around strangers, and take pictures that feel braver, more honest, more personal.

The premise is very simple: Pick a neighborhood. Go out and walk around whenever the light is good, getting to know people. Ask them about themselves. Listen first, shoot later.

For the rest of spring and summer, I’ll be spending every spare sunny evening in the Highlands, walking around. If you see me, say hi!

On my first day walking around the Highlands, I met Cindy. She was enjoying the first sunny afternoon of the season, drinking and reading in an easy chair of her porch. She invited me to sit a while, and we talked about family,  her frustration with the heavy presence of meth users in her neighborhood, and her recovery from a bad injury.

She gave me permission to photograph her just as I had found her; reading a novel in a perfect patch of light, and I promised to come back and visit later.

A few random outtakes from news stories I’ve shot over the last couple of months.

This is a lake of poop sludge. Incredibly, it didn't smell at all, due the benficial bacteria that were slowly breaking it down. It had a sign in front of it that said, "Non-potable water — Do not drink!" As if.

When true crime author Ann Rule came to town, the line snaked all he way down the middle of the Fred Meyer. Loyal fans read her books while waiting to have them signed.

WInners at a United Kennel Club dog show pose in front of an improvised backdrop with their champion dog.

These aspiring rappers call themselves the "Legendary Monstaz".

Plus, a quince— the often lavish fifteenth-birthday celebrations given to Latina girls — has everything: Religious and cultural significance, love, tension, glitter, fancy outfits, and that singular pleasure that unites all human cultures across space and time – an opportunity to watch your uncle get drunk and dance his ass off.

So I  started making calls. And then more calls, and then still more. A local priest kindly introduced me to the family  featured in these photos, who very graciously allowed me to photograph their quince, and fed me a delicious, heaping plate of stewed birria.

I was really pleased with a lot of images as singles.

But the birthday  girl, a beautiful young woman named Jennifer,turned out to live in Vancouver, which is outside of our coverage area. I really needed to find local girls for the purposes of the news story.  And while editing these photos, I decided I had a very different vision for how I wanted the photos to be in terms of story telling.

I began to think that if I shot a few more, I could put together a series of photos that would hold together much better.

So, I’m wearing out the leather on my shoes again, trying to find a few more to shoot, and hoping to find enough to make a slide-show.  In the mean time, here’s some singles from my first attempt.  If you know a girl who’s going to have a Quince who lives in Cowlitz, Wahkiakum or Southern Lewis  Counties, please put her in touch with me!

This early morning fire, started by a goat that knocked over a space heater, completely destroyed this home, causing the entire house to collapse into the foundation. As a firefighter began to unearth the piles of smoldering rubble, new little fires flared up, and the other firefighters- mostly volunteers who had been there 12 hours already in some cases – moved into to extinguish them.

This was the first time I ever shot a house fire.  The firefighters were very accommodating, and let me stomp around in the burning wreckage with little supervision, which I thought was great, though I’m not sure my mother would agree.

While I was there, I thought that I was being super conscientious to get the action shot, detail shot, establishing shot, and a wide variety of perspectives and angles, but when I got back to the newsroom, muddy and stinking to high hell, I realized how many of my photos looked the same.

“House fires are like that,” one of the photogs told me. Ugh.  We still got a nice spread for the paper- in fact, my editor pushed things around to make room for more photos, but it was yet another case of learning how to shoot something the hard way.

In a situation where everything is monochromatic, in this case black, grey and brown, you really have to focus on graphic elements, and I think that’s where I went wrong. The other tactic I could have taken was to be much more aggressive about getting around in front of the firefighters, and focusing on action.  But there was a big smoldering pit behind me, everything was slick as mud, and my gear isn’t insured.

“It’s OK to make mistakes, you always get another chance at a daily paper,” the photog like to tell me, “Just don’t make the same mistakes again.”

This woman was wonderfully witty, and watching four generations of family members (great-great-great-grands!) interact with her was a blast.

When I got back, our wonderful staff photog Bill kindly sat down to do an edit with me.  It’s always helpful to do that, because he can help me see  my photos in a completely different light, and understand what will work well as a photo for the paper.  As often happens when he sits in on the edit, I ended up choosing photos for the paper that I initially overlooked, after hearing his rationale for why they worked.

So here are a few outtakes that didn’t work for the paper for one reason or another that I loved nonetheless.

As a side note, I’ve been borrowing a 70-200 from a friend. Even though it’s an f/4, not the peachy f/2.8, I’m starting to wonder how I have gotten along without one this long.   It was perfect for this occasion, where having a telephoto allowed me to take intimate photos in a less intrusive way, and (mostly) not stick a zillion dollars worth of flashing beeping technology in an elderly person’s face- though I did switch to my 50mm part way through.

A mother and daughter who have known Helen for a long time.

Dale, left, is another younger relative of hers.

Ice cream, punch, and cake never get old.

In some ways, life is as it always has been in Wahkiakum. Many of the residents still share the handful of last names brought over by their Finnish and Norwegian forbears, and their legacy of staunch self-reliance and conservatism still runs strong in the salty old sea dogs and loggers who still populate the county.

But time has not been kind to their way of life. Crashing timber and fish prices, along with increased  environmental protections intended to safeguard endangered animals have had some serious, and often personal consequences for the human residents of the county.

Community leaders have been forced to make difficult decisions about what is and isn’t essential, and deep resentments have grown towards the outsiders — and endangered animals who have taken away their livelihoods, without offering any new ideas about how to keep the county alive.

It’s not uncommon to hear community members make half-serious jibes about exacting revenge on endangered birds and the people who love them, or to express concern that the county could ‘die’ if something doesn’t change soon.

Recently I took a short photo-walk around the  marina in Cathalmet, and discovered a few resources that don’t seem to be in any danger of disappearing- abandoned waterfront buildings from faded eras, questionable lawn decor, and attractively coiled ropes.

There’s much more to Wahkiakum; a lot of stories I haven’t even scratched yet, a lot of great characters I still haven’t met.   It’s a great place to shoot, and I hope I’ll be get to spend more time there, going deeper into the real life of the community.

Learning how to shoot news photos, which have to tell the story in one picture, very cleanly and quickly, is a real challenge. Actually, it’s kicking my ass.  So,  I’ve been feeling very self-critiquey lately. Looking back now, I think that though they’re pretty good, at least two of these pictures could have been made better by a lower perspective, and a wide-open, zoomed in 70-200 to really get in close and show things from the eye-level of the creature in question.   With this little girl for example. being a bit underneath her, the surprise on her face would have turned a pretty OK picture into a really exciting moment.

Then, I got lucky, and ran into an incredibly excited dog that was catching snowballs tossed into the air by his owners.  I think we ran this one as “wild art” in the web edition of the paper, but I’ve since lost the caption info.  Yeah, I’m a bit behind on my posts since I started my new job!

This is my mom & step-father’s dog, Ralph. He was incredibly excited to be playing in the snow, and  got in  a really intense fight with his own leash.

This wedding was truly a family affair.  My aunt and uncle hosted the wedding at their home. My cousins and the groom’s friends set everything up. Two of my best friends decorated like mad. My aunts and cousin Chelsea transformed about fifty pounds of sugar into about as many pies and cakes. I officiated, and my cousin photographed.

Because I was just shooting for myself,   I had the freedom to just take  lots of candid, informal photos of whatever struck my fancy, without worrying about whether or not they looked like “wedding photos”, which was a lot of fun. Here’s a small sample of my crazy hilarious, lovable family and friends just being themselves — but with even more wine than usual…

My cousin Carmen, a haridresser and makeup artist, helped my sister get ready.

Getting ready.

My aunts, Ruth and Mary.

Our friends helped us make about 16 miles worth of paper chains out of old sheet music.

Mary and Bridget share a dance.

Colleen and one of her oldest friends, Stephanie.

My cousin Chelsea, a talented baker, made this beautiful cake.

Chelsea helps Johnny remove the cake my sister and Peter had just smeared all over his face.

Cake aftermath.

My niece Scarlett and Uncle Mike, overwhelmed by dessert options.

Sparklers for the first dance.

Alyssa and Scarlett light up the first dance.

Johnny and Colleen.

One of our oldest friends, Lisa, demonstrates how to dance like a Motley Crue groupie.

The groom keeps The Ladies entertained.