When it comes to our cabin in New York’s Hudson Valley, my family and I have become fair-weather friends. Having wisely put illusions about learning winter sports behind u...
This photo is from my first roll with a new camera, a 1985 Hasselblad SWC/M that just arrived here last week. Given my love for my Rolleiflex, I have long been curious about how...
My 1958 Rolleiflex 3.5F, my most-used camera, recently came back from Georgia-based technician Peter Jiang after a thorough rehabilitation. For a camera I’ve relied on since 201...
I. Observing On a trip to the world’s busiest museum last fall, my husband and I were rudely jostled by a determined fellow museum-goer, a middle-aged Parisienne who shuffled fr...
One of the joys of living in a city like New York is its abundance of creative artists, many of whom also devote some portion of their time to teaching. So it is with the subjec...
A recent spring vacation in Europe with our daughter ended in sadness with the death, back home, of our beloved dog Milo at age 14. He had been gradually failing over the past m...
My photographic archive, viewed from a certain altitude, resembles nothing more than a collection of rectangles and squares. The rectangles come from my 35mm cameras, while the ...
One of my fondest early memories as a New Yorker was a blizzard in the mid-1990s that brought the metropolis to a halt. My future husband and I were out with friends at a play a...