More Than Kids

Mothers of Angels

I often remember the friends and strangers who helped me following my father's suicide. Even when I could barely function, I hoped that some day I would help others who had suffered loss. Exactly five years after I flew to Las Vegas to plan my father's funeral and organize his "estate," I spent the day with families who had lost a child.

We spent about eight hours together. Afterward, I was exhausted, more by the summer sun than by the emotions. The families inspired me. While the families might not feel strong now, they are doing important work. They are supporting each other, keeping their families together, and grieving for children who were supposed to plan their grieving parents' funerals.

On the drive home, I heard the phrase "misery loves company." Usually this expression is used to isolate people who are feeling sad, or to judge people for "making others feel bad." In the context of my day with Mothers with Angels, I contemplated how this expression reflects our society's views about grieving.

While there are times when I want to be alone, I often want company, whether I am sad or happy. Why shouldn't the miserable people want company? Happy people are not expected to celebrate alone. Why would those in misery be any different? We are social creatures, and after we lose loved ones, we are likely to be miserable for a long time... nt forever and not all the time, but for a long time.

When I am sad, I want to be around people who understand sadness. When I am happy, I want to be around people who appreciate happiness. In the photos below, sometimes people appear happy. Perhaps the mothers felt happiness, because they are in the company of fellow travelers; perhaps they can feel their "angel's presence" or God's presence.  Perhaps the families are happy, because they know they are helping others. Perhaps, these mothers would not call the feeling happiness, but something else -- maybe a relief from misery... and if I helped in easing their misery, I am happy, because I know that easing misery is a gift not forgotten.

notes to the photos, below the gallery

bf

Mothers of Angels - Images by bryan farley

 

Quick notes about the photos:

All but two of the Mothers of Angels have tattoos of their children. The gallery's first photo is from a newer member who lost her teen-age son when he was hit by a car while riding a skate board.  Later that afternoon, I photographed the mother at her son's favorite skateboard park. (I have known this woman since we were children.)

At a cemetery, we visited a family who lost a daughter (and sister). When the girl died, she was about the same age as my daughter who starts Kindergarten next week. Occasionally, medical professionals make mistakes. Sometimes, these mistakes are fatal, and from what I know, it cost this family their oldest child.

Another woman lost her young child to cancer. For a year, she watched her daughter die. We photographed her with a tree planted in her daughter's honor. Across the river, we could see Valley Children's Hospital, the place the mother called, "their home away from home."

Several women have lost children to accidents. I photographed a woman who lost her son when he was 26. By then, he was also a father. I included photographs of the mother and her grandson, as well as the grandson's mother and uncle. The little boy's mother also has a tattoo. The woman who lost her son is one of the two group members who doesn't have a tattoo. She thinks that she is too old for one, but she is only a few years older than I am.

The group meets weekly, usually in the back room of pizza place/restaurant. For this session, we met at the group leader's house. In her back yard, there is a tribute garden to their 17 year old son. He was a passenger in a fatal car crash. The community contributed to the garden, including the driver's family; the driver knew the son for years.

I photographed nine Mothers of Angels members for the group shot. More attend weekly meetings, and more members will continue to join the group. If you know anyone in Central California who could benefit by joining the group, please feel free to contact me, and I will help connect people.

To see the entire gallery of 160 photos, click here.

to view the book:

Mothers of Angels

Mother of an Angel...

By bryan farley

Book Preview

5 years and counting

I didn't wish for the events to happen five years ago. I hope nothing like it happens to me again, and yet, I am grateful for the experience. I have become a better person, and met many good people along the way.

When my cell phone rang the morning of August 16th, the caller ID listed "Dad cell." We hadn't spoken for two months, and in that time he checked into a detox facility and began attending AA. I assumed that he was doing much better and that he was calling to tell me that my grandmother had died. She had been ill for years.

Instead, my step-mother was on the phone. She was brief. My father had shot himself. He was dead. I was needed in Las Vegas.

During the next year, I often thought about the expression, "that which doesn't kill you, makes you stronger." And since I didn't feel as if I was getting stronger, I wondered if I were dying. Every day, I carried the grief. Someone would make a joke about suicide, or a television show would use suicide as a dramatic device, or the news would report something about a "suicide bomber" or a suicide close to home.  I saw suicide everywhere.

And those were only the little reminders. I became my grandmother's legal guardian and learned that my father's drinking and gambling problems spilled into his record keeping. Money disappeared from my grandmother's accounts. There were unexplained charges at casinos and on-line stores. And when I visited the bank for my grandmother, each teller was required to see my paperwork and my father's death certificate. Without thinking, each teller would look at cause of death and read "self inflicted gun shot wound to the head," and then try to continue as if they hadn't seen it.  And this happened every week for several months. These visits became my gauge.  I knew I was getting stronger when I was able to leave the bank without falling apart.

For years, I was angry at the tellers, and the people who would not support me. I wanted more from my friends; I wanted more from strangers. I was quite demanding. I am more understanding now, though I wish that our society would reduce the suicide jokes and increase our compassion for people going through traumatic loss. Humor might help those afraid of experiencing loss, but it doesn't help those of us that have already experienced it...especially those of us in the middle of grief.

My anger has taken a new form though. I remember and appreciate the people that helped me. Some were complete strangers; some were close friends, and some were strangers who have now become close friends. These people knew what I needed and let me know that I would be OK. Some were role models, beautiful role models, who taught me that life can be full even with loss.

I miss my dad. I love my dad. And, I love all of you that have helped me the last five years.

Thank you,

bf

Getting Closer

Originally when I started this blog, I intended to use it for clients, mostly as a teaching tool or promotional device. I thought this was a good idea. I know photography, especially children's photography, and I know the photography industry. I am also an experienced educator, but I could have completed my blog after four posts. As for self-promotion? I have never done it well; It feels insincere. And yet, I enjoy talking to people about almost anything.

My blog has turned into something more confessional, something more educational for me. I have learned more about my creative process, and the reasons that I photograph. Even when I think about my first rule of photography, getting closer, I have become more aware how I get closer.  When I first created my rules for photography, rule number one was "get close." Now, it is get closer. Getting close is more about technical rules. Getting closer is more about personal interaction.

A few things I learned about getting close. It isn't easy, especially with kids. They move fast; they are impatient. Or, they begin behaving oddly when they see a camera. Even my own children started saying "cheese" before they were three, and I didn't teach them to pose. Children are also short. Most big people haven't figured this out and they stand upright when photographing children, and sadly most  of their photography appears distant...literally and emotionally.  

How do I get close? Initially, I worked on getting close with a telephoto lens, and I photographed people from a distance.  Sometimes, this is necessary; for example at a sporting event. Now I am always trying to get closer.  I would also crop my photos to get closer, but the photos looked cropped. (I still crop, but usually to clean up angles or distractions.) I have a different lens now that I use primarily for getting closer, and I walk right up to the person, often putting the camera near the person's face. Somehow, the person rarely notices.  Sometimes, I get too close, and I miss part of a child's face. I would rather get too close. This is a decent exercise: try to get too close. Very hard to do.

As I am preparing for an intense photo shoot next week, I am aware of my new interpretation of "getting closer." Most beginners overlook this basic part of photography; this basic part of humanity. Getting closer means getting to know the people you are photographing and showing an interest. (It helps that I am interested in the way that children process information and express emotion.) To show interest, sometimes I photograph their stuffed animal first, or I photograph them when they jump on my back, or I let them photograph me.  Sometimes I let them chase me and throw straw at me and my $1200 dollar lens. And sometimes, I act like the trained teacher that I am, and I tell them to stop misbehaving. And then I take another photo.

see photo captions for notes

get closer - Images by bryan farley

To get a closer view of my work, see www.bryanfarley.com and http://www.photoshelter.com/c/bryanfarley

Blurb by any other name

Recently I visited the Blurb HQ's. If you don't know about Blurb, it is a wonderful company started with a cool idea. The company was created after its CEO wanted to print a photo book but could not find someone wiling to print a few copies at a reasonable price. So, she started a company that prints books for average people. Actually, I don't think Blurb prints. I think they are more of a "middle man."

Yesterday, my five year old daughter called me a "middle man." She didn't mean it the same way. She started by asking me when I became an old man.  I told her that I wasn't an old man yet. So she asked if I were a young man. After I told her that I wasn't young either, she called me a "middle man."

Back to Blurb and photo books. (To read a good article, see what the good people at Photoshelter say about them.)  I have been working on four books at the same time. Turns out to be a bad strategy. Creating books is more difficult than it appears. I enjoy the finished product, but verifying all the little details is stressful. I still enjoy the process, especially knowing that the outcome will be worth my effort. Opening the shipment is so rewarding.

Besides opening the package, I also enjoy choosing the cover photo and planning the next book idea. Creativity is more fun than checking the spelling of someone's name (or returning to a location to reshoot one kid who was somehow absent every day that I shot .)  So, here are some probable cover photos for the next series of books, and one potential cover photo for a future project called "almost self-portraits."

And, a partial list of books in the initial planning stages:

"almost self-portraits" - photos taken of me, by children I am photographing. I set up the camera, often holding it, but let the children push the shutter.

Fathers - Photos of fathers with their children.

My family - you would have figured I would have done a few of these by now. Just haven't gotten around to it. I still have frames on my wall without photos.

Mothers with Angels - future photo project about mothers who have experienced the ultimate loss. (completed Sept, 12; click on the image to see the book preview)

Rainbow Days

By bryan farley

Book Preview

Mothers of Angels

Mother of an Angel ...

By bryan farley

Book Preview

Epilepsy Camp - book on children with epilepsy

PhotoLessons - My book on photographing kids 

book covers options - Images by bryan farley

Tracks of My (Children's) Tears

I remember having my favorite photo taken when I was seven or eight. My mother hired a photographer to meet us at a park. The place had a zoo, a theme park, an amusement park, old tall trees, tennis courts, fishing ponds and large areas of grass. Oh, and bad memories. A few months before the photo session, my mother took me to the same park to tell me that she and my father were going to get a divorce and that everything was going to turn out alright, which of course, it didn't.

And since I was a kid at the photo shoot, I probably would have been uncooperative anyway, and I still might have cried and screamed, which of course, I did.

But that isn't the end of the story, nor the part that I recall. I remember that I finally relaxed

and smiled.

After I finished pouting and crying, the photographer captured the moment, and It may always be my favorite photograph of me, because it taught me that it was OK to be sad. It was OK to feel. And it was OK to smile. I often forget this lesson, but I try to honor it in my work, especially with children.

A woman was looking at my website recently and noticed a photo I had taken of a little girl. The little girl, who has a red flower in her hair, was about the same age that I must have been when my teary eyed photo had been taken. The woman wondered if the young girl had been crying before she smiled. The girl had. I told the woman the story about my photo. When I took the photo of the young girl, I had remembered my experience with the patient photographer. I knew if I waited, she would smile. She did. Smiles almost always follow tears.

When children smile after crying, the muscles are more relaxed and the eyes sparkle. The expression lingers longer; the child gains more trust for the photographer and for expressing emotions. When most people photograph young people (or adults for that matter), children are often told to pretend to be happy. Say "cheese." This is a metaphor for life.

There is a professional photographer who became popular for photographing children when they cry.  I don't care much for her work. Won't name her, because I don't like criticizing people publicly, and it will seem like sour grapes, because she is quite famous. She cheats. She gives little children candy; then takes it away. The children cry; she photographs them. She teaches the children not to trust adults or the parents that allowed an adult to steal her candy. Then she captures their image of feeling cheated. This is also a metaphor for life.

Children cry naturally and often, so we can capture these natural moments. I admit, I feel uncomfotable photographing little people when they are crying, but the children do not seem troubled. To children, crying is natural. When children see photographs of themselves crying, they simply label it or tell the story. They don't discredit it. Adults, myself included, find crying awkward and uncomfortable. We make excuses. We minimize it.

As a result, many adults have also lost the ability to cry and smile like children.  So, even though I cherish my old favorite photo, I wish the photographer captured one of me crying, just before I smiled, so that I could look at it to remind me that crying is acceptable... or possible.

My children will have photos reminding them that they knew how to cry. (I hope that they don't think that I stole their candy.) I also photograph many other children crying, but since I don't post photos of children on my blog unless I think parents are OK with it, I am only posting photos of my crying children. You might find these startling. When I look at these photos, I wonder what I was doing. I feel like the photographer working with starving children (PUT DOWN THE CAMERA AND GIVE THEM A HUG!!!)

But I have the knowledge of looking at the frames immediately following the tears and the memory of my favorite photo. I know what follows the tears. Usually a well earned grin.

Crying Children - Images by bryan farley