Over the Memorial Day weekend, I got to catch up with some family friends, the Harrigles, and see how their recently-adopted daughter, Sophie, had grown.

Sophie is a full-blown toddler now, walking and smiling and playing and babbling away happily. Last I saw her she was probably around six months old.

I photographed little Sophie Harrigle with her mother and father as a part of my series, Women with Icons. Early on in my project, I discovered (with the help of my husband) that it didn't seem appropriate to photograph very young children without the presence of their mother, or even both parents. Pictures of children who are far too young to even venerate icons or imagine that icons depict real people don't seem to hold gravity, or don't seem "fair" to the idea itself.

This is especially true for Little Sophie, who is too young to know how precious she is to her parents. Fr. Gregory and Jeanne found each other late in life, and were determined to adopt. After much difficulty, they were able to travel to Lebanon and bring Sophie home.

"Sophie, of course, means 'wisdom,'" said her mother, Jeanne. "We picked the name together, and it means a great deal to us. Saint Sophia was the mother of three daughters, named Faith, Hope, and Charity. It took a lot of those three things to get Sophie here to us so we could take care of her. We had to have a great deal of faith and hope, and we had to on the charity of others. And finally God brought this blessing into our lives."

The icon in this case becomes a symbol of the this new family. Wisdom, faith, hope, love, and charity helped to bring them together. Not to mention how the faith itself binds them together in a spiritual sense. Sophie and her icon are the center of meaning. I'd like to think this photograph records a moment of thanksgiving.

Also over Memorial Day weekend, I took the time to take a few portraits of my dear friends Nathan and Liana. The weather was wonderful, and the shade beneath a tree afforded lovely, even lighting for their portrait.

You may remember Liana from her portrait in the Women with Icons series, of course. She and I have been friends since middle school, and it's uncanny the rapport that we still hold together. I met her husband Nathan when they were dating in college, and was honored to be a part of their wedding, and then a part of their chrismation into the Orthodox church.

The two of them are very natural, unassuming, and affectionate together, making them excellent subjects. Liana, of course, is very comfortable in front of the camera, in contrast to Nathan.

It could be that she is so comfortable, perhaps, because we were taking pictures together since we first knew each other. I spent afternoons in high school doodling with her, drawing her portrait while she held still. She (among others) is one of those people I feel artistically drawn to. I find it endlessly fascinating to work with her as a model, and could never get tired of photographing her.

I took these two shots while at the National Aquarium in Baltimore. Near their beautiful tank full of sharks and rays, there are these tall cylindrical glass containers full of water, lit from above, that bubble up every now and then, like the ubiquitous treasure chest in a fish tank.

Each of these is a lengthy exposure (1/15 to 1/2 a second), since the water (and location) made everything eerily dark. But the bubbles themselves glistened through the glass and made interesting distorted shapes if you looked at them a certain way.

It's one of those things which proves to me (yet again) that the most random things can become your subject matter; most of finding something interesting to photograph comes from looking and being ready (both of which require the practice of careful attention and openness--neither of which I have mastered at all).

Over the past few weeks, I've tried to snag a few photos after church of kids playing and enjoying each other.

I love this one--so close up and such a natural smile, not the frozen, "Hey honey, look here!" kind of smile, but genuine fun coming through. And the fact that she's backlit means that there's even lighting on her face:

I think I could get used to doing this.

Meet Alex.

Alex is a kinetic little boy of the tender age of 3. He was very difficult to photograph, for the mere fact that he move so quickly and so much. But every now and then I caught a moment of fun or goofiness that made running around with him worth all the while.

On a technical note, one of the things that helped was keeping the camera on either aperture-priority or shutter-priority, so as I moved through the dappled light in his backyard quickly I didn't have to worry so much about exposure. Usually with portraiture I control everything manually, but there are times (especially when photographing weddings or kids) when it's helpful to have the camera think for you, as long as you're being smart about when you let it do so.

Bonnaroo always affords some interesting photographic opportunities. Of course, it's great to catch shots of your favorite bands, but because much of Bonnaroo involves going to see musicians perform it's often the out of the way subjects and happenings that prove more interesting and compelling photographic material. Such as:

Stephen and I came across a troupe of musicians and performers, who had gathered a substantial crowd around them. Every year, Bonnaroo hires buskers of these types to entertain and create a nifty concertgoing environment. A lot of photographers had gathered around, some snapping away with fancy flashes, and others just hanging back in the crowd. It was just past sunset, which made for even lighting, but it was quickly fading. The shot above is my favorite--the subjects are facing towards the fading light, there's enough blurring to give a sense of rapid motion and energy, and the colors came out wonderfully.

I'm in love with how bizarre this shot is. A flash from another camera fired off to the left while I was taking my shot, and I think it lends a weird quality to the thing that compliments the subject matter.

Just a plain ol' nice close-up, thankyouverymuch.

You can see the rest of my shots from Bonnaroo here.