photogrammatical

So, I’ve fallen a little behind on the blog this past month.  However, I’ve been shooting like crazy so I don’t feel too guilty.

This is my Yoda, Max S. Gerber, and his niece Willamina.  A fun test shot taken before a shoot I was assisting him on.  I’d like to take credit, but really the camera was already set up, I just made a smart-ass’d comment and pushed the button.

Check out more on that shoot and the story it would become, “The Baby Whisperer”, over on Max’s blog The Latest Shot.  Also, he posted a video of me singing to Willa about cowboys and potty chairs, so I guess you’ll have that to look forward to.

Stay tuned for more on My Heart is Across the Ocean in the not too distant future.  I’m 23 families in and still going strong.

My ‘Marine Families‘ project has been going well. I’ve been logging a lot of miles recently, traveling all over California to photograph the families of my Marines in Afghanistan.  It’s been a labor of love for me, and as rewarding as any project I can imagine.

I received a phone call on Christmas Day, and several emails back from the boys whose families I’ve photographed so far.  They’ve all been short and straightforward, much like the emails I’ve sent to them.  There is a lot that goes unsaid between us, but it will suffice to say that we understand each other perfectly.

I have been touched and deeply honored by the graciousness of these Marines’ wives and girlfriends.  Allowed to share in news from the front, to know the men’s hearts and mindsets in words that Marines never say to one another, only whispered in crowded phone tents with the clock ticking and other men waiting behind.

I see now the full measure of what these women shoulder at home.  A Marine deployed is surrounded by men in his same situation.  Everyone is lonesome. Everyone is homesick.  There is not much reason to talk about it unless the hurt is too great.  When men wait to read their mail alone, you let them.  Other than those few private moments at night, the men are in it together.  That’s how they get through things when being overwhelmed is not an option.

That’s not how it is back home.  The women don’t wake up together to share cigarettes and black coffee.  Their web of support is spread out and disjointed.  They are surrounded by people who don’t understand because they simply cannot.  Still they must go to work and take care of the children and run a household as though their men were on a camping trip together.  Knowing full well that the next Marine they see could be wearing Dress Blues and standing on the front porch.

Make no mistake, I’m not saying that one side of a deployment is easier than the other.  They are very different, and should not be viewed in competition.  What I am saying is that these women, these families, bear a burden that they have not been trained for, and that they bear it with a kind of poise and steadfastness that you’d expect from a Marine, but that isn’t something you learn in Boot Camp, and it isn’t something that requires a uniform.  I believe it’s that thing at the core of words like Honor and Patriotism.  Not all the partisan bullshit that has been attached to them, but the actual definitions, that even cynics know exist.

Can I show something in a photograph that I can barely explain in words?  Perhaps not.  But I can try.

The My Heart is Across the Ocean project now has a Facebook page, making it even easier to follow.  I’ll be posting project updates here on the blog, but the Facebook page offers a bit more personal/casual look into the logistics of the work and that’s where I’ll be posting things like behind-the-scenes snaps and engaging in public discussions and commentary.  I hope you’ll follow along as we inch closer to the day my boys come home and this project comes to fruition.

My cousin Randy left home for Marine Corps Boot Camp early this morning.

These next three months will be long and rough on him.  But I’m confident he’ll find his way through.

It won’t be easy, and not everyone will make it, but I’m pretty sure that is still a selling point.

It was for me.

If you’ve watched my video message to the boys you know it’s been an emotional holiday season at my house.  My old Marine unit is in Afghanistan on their first deployment without me. Now I’ve gotten a taste of what it’s like to be on the other side of separation, and it turns out that neither side is easy. I have so many Google Alerts set that every time they hit the news wire I know about it. Anytime casualties are reported, I hold my breath until I know it wasn’t one of mine. Even then there is a measure of loss involved, but between two tragedies you have to hope for the one you can bear.

When I joined the Marine Corps I knew what I was getting into when I signed my name on the dotted line. I was as mentally prepared as I could be and I figured out the rest along the way. What I didn’t realize at the time, and perhaps am only appreciating now, is that I’d signed my family up behind me for everything but the fighting and dying. Maybe a little of that too, sometimes.

While I have no regrets about having been a Marine, I’ve started to understand what it takes to care about one (or many). And that is no small thing when normal life continues on around you.

I’ve been seeing a lot of that quiet strength recently, as I’ve been driving all over Southern California photographing the wives, girlfriends, and families of my Marines overseas. It started as a Christmas present for them, but it is fast becoming an intensely personal, personal project for me. One that I plan on continuing until their return.

Traveling from home to home photographing the boys’ families has allowed me to continue to feel connected to them while they are away. I’ve been allowed a peek behind the curtain, into the personal lives of men who seem to be as gentle and caring at home as they are stoic and steadfast in uniform. Reconciling these versions of them for myself has only made them more dear to me.

I’ve decided to name the project after a song my father recorded for me when I was in Iraq, at a time when he was grappling with some of the same feelings I have now, plus some I may never know.

My Heart Across the Ocean (Click to Listen)
©2003 Bob Bennett

You can read more about the song here.  Stay tuned for more on the project.

Happy New Year!

A Christmas video message to my Marines in Afghanistan.

Last month my father, singer/song writer Bob Bennett, released his 9th album Christmastide.  Check it out on iTunes here.

Yours Truly did all the photography on this one.  (It’s about time, right?)

My siblings and I spend every Christmas Eve at our father’s house.  Even now as adults, Dad still plays and sings for us, reads aloud The Littlest Angel and tucks us in under the Christmas Tree.

He put the same care and tenderness into this album.  I hope you can hear it as plainly as I can.

"Then all the reindeer loved him..."

This was towards the end of the shoot for Mom’s Christmas card. We were just hitting the fourth verse of our own a cappella version of The California Raisins’ Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer.

You know, we aren’t that bad.  But I won’t be quitting my day job.

Madison Nease is kid sister to my buddy/housemate, Wes Nease.  She recently flew out from exotic Virginia for two weeks’ visit, here in the land of Damn Good Mexican Food and Legal Heroin.

She is a Lettuce Farmer by trade.  (That is to say, she works on a lettuce farm.)  During her stay she helped spruce up our vegetable garden, which seems to know no winter.  She also spearheaded the clean up of our “bomb shelter”, an open-air subterranean concrete room in the backyard. Once decorated with white twinkle lights, it became the dance floor at Colin/Kate’s Epic Joint Birthday/Maddy’s Going Home Party.

The following evening after the house had been picked up and the remaining guests had been wheelbarrowed to the curb.  We made a few images down on the dance floor while enduring weather in the low 50s, or what I like to call Southern California Freezing.

Thanks to Maddy for helping to straighten up our man cave, adding more vegetables to our bachelor’s diet, and for generally cheering up the joint.  Come back soon, the Goose misses you.

Madison and Wes Nease in The Bomb Shelter

My three year old Goddaughter, Katarina, had her first visit to the ocean yesterday.

She insisted on wearing her Little Mermaid dress for the occasion.