Why did I change everything?

It's never really been discussed outside of the few who were 100% bombarded by the grand opening (insert gracious smile here), so I thought I'd put it out there.

There were 3 big reasons behind the change

1. I was tired of being the cheap photographer** There's nothing cheap about me, and I don't mean money honey

2. I believe my work deserves more than to be put of FB. I love FB, I stalk your pages when you post my pics if I need a pick me up and want to feel validated. But for the love of Mary- my work is good, damn good, and shouldn't be left on disks that will one day fail or FB pages that can be hacked.

3. Fortuitously I have seen the lasting value of the few images that have been done up nicely and the impact they have on people. I have been blessed/cursed because quite often I am the last one to take a photograph of someone before they pass away. I'm glad it's me that gets to do it, I feel awful knowing that we live in a disposable society of cell phone images (careful I'm getting on my soapbox) and 4x6 prints from walgreens when they have a sale. We don't have portraits to pass along to our kids when we die and as over-documented as we are thru twitter, FB and other social media. There is nothing tangible- which is depressing.

Here is the push behind the change.

Retired serviceman, husband, father and true intellect, Charles Ferrell passed away 2 summers ago from lung cancer and multi-systems organ failure. I had been shooting for about 2 years, I was just getting out of "P" for professional mode and was at a bbq being held at my grandmother's home. Everyone actually was able to be there, kids, grandkids, etc. As usual, I had my camera- helps with the anxiety and antisocial tendencies- I snapped a few pics of everyone and made sure to get one of "the old folks" as grandma put it.

I sent the photos out via email to everyone and she complained about how old she looked. At this point Charles had had the cancer for a little over a year and we had no idea how bad things were going to get, and how hard he would fight to not let anyone know of the internal battle between his body and the disease. He is a proud man, hard working and a fighter to the end.

Time passed and he had won many fights, but ultimately lost the war. He passed in July 2009 and I had the distinct privilege to document his official military funeral. It was beautiful as much as a funeral could be and very fitting. In the days after his death I took that last photo of the two of them together-the one of the old folks, and had it made into a canvas piece for my grandmother. Who I feared would soon die from a broken heart.

Much to my surprise, the canvas became a comfort to her. It was a great picture and as much as she hated it at the time, it became her connection to him. She was able to speak to him and feel his presence in her time of need. It's been a few years now and she's doing amazingly, she travels, has a social life and is an amazing individual. My grandmother Lea still talks to the canvas print of her late husband when she's lonely, or scared or needs a friend. It is a lasting image that will forever keep him near her.

This is the power of a photograph that went beyond a digital file.