I hate everything. *grumblegrumble*assholes*grumblegrumble*motherfuckersallofthem*grumble*
Except this. I don’t hate this. Jack (and the rest of Team Stimey more peripherally) spent a couple weeks last month being photographed by a very talented photojournalism student from the Corcoran College of Art + Design for a photo story about autism. She was amazing and so professional and also crazy nice. Jack sort of fell in love with her. I think he wants her to live with us.
She came over last weekend and presented me with two flash drives full of hundreds of photographs of my family. What an amazing gift. As a side note, it takes a surprising amount of time to look through multiple thousands of photos. I did it once and I have to go through them again to pick out my favorites, which I’m sure I will be sharing here over the next few weeks, but for now, I will give you a few pictures that she emailed me separately.
If you want to see more of her work, you can check out her website, which is a work in progress but should be up and running presently.
You can also see the exhibit at the White Walls Corcoran Gallery at 500 17th Street NW in DC. Her exhibit is part of a larger exhibition called “Interactions” and will be up until March 31. There is a reception on Thursday, March 22, from 5-7 p.m.
Sadly, Jack and I will not be able to attend the reception because we will be out of town (more on that later this week!), but it is possible that Alex and the remainder of Team Stimey will be there. All are welcome to check out this exhibition of work by student photojournalists.
I think it’ll be good. I wish I could be there.
Thank the good lord, it is spring. I couldn’t resist writing about it over at White Knuckle Parenting this week, although I did refrain from using the term “tree sperm” to refer to all those annoying seeds that blanket the world for three weeks every March and April.
The column was originally titled When Spring Sproings, but evidently some copy editor objected to the fact that “sproing” isn’t really a word. Pfft…copy editors. I say that with the greatest of love, considering that I used to be a copy editor. But let’s be honest: copy editors are a strange and persnickety bunch.
I am going to bed.