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Auld Lang Syne - 2015 | by kern.justin
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Auld Lang Syne - 2015

thegoldensieve.com

 

In typical fashion, I mark the end of 2015 with a set of images made this year that mean a great deal to me. At least one for every month, with an eye to being as selective as possible.

 

As with 2014, 2015 leaves in its wake vastly more unprocessed, unpublished, and unprinted images than I would care to admit. Also more than any other year the focus of my photography has been my immediate family and therefore I have shared even fewer images than ever before. The images that I do share here tell the story: a life of simple, but incredible privilege.

 

My family and I have our health and one another — although I admit we have spent far too much time apart due to work travel this year — and any other number of advantages that are self-evident in these photographs. The year began in Switzerland and passed through parts of three other continents before ending in Chicago with our extended family.

 

Oliver and Henry are growing rapidly and challenging and rewarding us daily. They turn a trip around the block into an adventure, and a trip across the country into a once-in-a-lifetime memory; or, for someone who spends as much time away from home as I do, they turn an afternoon of doing nothing but sitting around the living room building wooden railways into magic.

 

I've tried to never wish my life away, pining for something else or wishing it were later, but now more than ever before I wish I could slow time down and enjoy these years as they rush past in a slideshow that I scarcely have time to view as I'm making it.

 

The years are like the showers that we weathered waiting for sunset one November day on the Oregon coast. You stand one moment with the sun on your face, gazing out at the tempest brewing over the breakers, lost in thought, lost in the moment, and the next instant the rain is upon you. You scurry about, grab the kids, put the food away, cover your head, find a bit of shelter and then in an instant it's gone. One after the other they come until you're used to the rhythm.

 

And we amongst ourselves find reason to complain, to resent the showers from coming too quickly, or too slowly, or else for coming at all. When those waves fail to come, when one day all memory of 2015 fails me, I hope the one thing that lingers is the sound of my wife and my boys sleeping soundly close by as the rain from the cold heart of the Pacific pelts its song on the canvas and lulls me back to sleep.

 

My best to you and yours and have a happy and healthy 2016.

 

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Taken on August 7, 2015