"Show me how you crunch." I've always loved the feel and sound of crunching through a crust of ice on top of the snow. The kids love it, too. I'm grateful that the sun is starting to hang out long enough for them to be outside for a few minutes when they get home from school.

Another timelapse. I'm not sure why it came out so pixelated but these are fun so I want to practice by shooting more.

A short timelapse of brewing cold brew. Proof that I'm not wasting (all of) my money on Starbucks.

R had his first sleepover. T, A and I had breakfast together the next morning. We spend so much time with all four of us, seeing how the dynamic changes when we mix it up is intriguing.

A loves the novelty of 'counter breakfast,' so he ate breakfast on the kitchen counter.

T bought me flowers for Valentine's Day. I did not buy flowers for her. We are both cool with the reversal of gender expectations, though I am sure she would have appreciated flowers as well.

More snow. Messing around with timelapse photography. I wish I would have let this go a bit longer.

I thought about making up some deep meaning for this clip, something about 'perspective of the roads that I walk every day around my home.' The truth is that I went out and captured a bunch of post-storm snow footage and the only shot that I really liked was this one where I accidentally left the camera running.

R asked me to sit for a portrait. He was very insistent that I stay very still. I love how this came out, he even nailed the chest hair.

In elementary school, my art teacher, Mrs. Gobile, said that Pablo Picasso sought to recapture the ability to make art like a child. R's picture reminded me of that.

Another snow storm. The sound is quiet chaos.

On February 7, I was hired to make a video of Israeli soldiers visiting a private school for an assembly. When the event concluded, the Major and Lieutenant took a moment to tell me about their uniform adornments.

Ladybugs have been taking refuge from the cold behind the curtain in the boys' room. A is facing his fear of touching bugs and enjoying a bit of good luck.

When I returned home after photographing an event on February 5, I found that R had been using his LEGO camera while I was out. He and I assembled the set together the day after Christmas, it was a gift from my parents to him.

I've been seeing R take more interest in my work and hobbies lately. It makes me want to nurture his curiosity and also be more conscious of how much he models my behaviors.

As a family, we have experienced times where a trip to the grocery store was cause for anxiety due to lack of money. Once, when R was much younger, we filled a shopping cart and packed paper bags just to leave all of the food behind because my debit card was declined.

So when our counter looks like this, I am filled with gratitude (when I remember to pause for a moment to think about it). I love watching A polish off a mountain of strawberries for breakfast, knowing that T and I can provide fresh fruit for our family.

I also love when T bakes muffins. How the smell and taste of her cooking is home.

I am reusing this window to capture another clip of snow falling. Technically I shot this video on February 2nd but it was almost midnight - close enough to February 3rd.

For some reason I've always been captivated by reversing or flipping video clips of snowfall, by the dreaminess and vaguely eerie feeling it creates. I find dissonance to be extremely alluring.

While I have fallen behind on posting, I have not fallen behind on creating. It seems R has been inspired as well! In the clip above, he is describing a short video that he captured when he noticed something simple and beautiful.

Dare I say I notice a bit of influence? (See January 26, 2025)

Saturday morning brought the aftermath of Friday night's heavy rain.

Often, after a long week of school, scheduling, structure and responsibility, convincing A and R to leave the coziness of the indoors can be a trying task. But what boy can resist the allure of puddles, sticks and slushy snow?

The combination of pajamas and rain boots added to the novelty of this preprandial play session.

In 'The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows', John Koenig coins the term 'Maru Mori' and defines it as "the heartbreaking simplicity of ordinary things."

Here are a few of those simple and ordinary things: the rain outside my and T's bedroom window last Friday night, the roar of the shower and fan on the other side of the bedroom wall, footsteps on the stairs, muffled conversation reverberating from the kitchen.

Most of life is made of these fleeting moments strung together. I find comfort in savoring them.