This one is from November, when we were back home for my aunt's wedding. I apparently forgot to mention to Jason that one typically doesn't eat snacks during a wedding ceremony. Well, I suppose he can still get away with it for a little while longer.

One way to get your kid to stop reaching for the cookies is to make sure both of her hands are occupied. Just, you know, a little tip from me to you.

When we were at the zoo this weekend, it was cool enough that we put Eva's sweater over her like a blanket. To hear your average San Diegan talk about our current weather, you'd think that she'd have had icicles forming on her eyelashes.

(I talk about "average San Diegans" as though I'm any better. Of course I've been bitching about the cold, too.)

Jason found himself the recipient of some unwanted attention when we went to the zoo this weekend. All in all, he handled himself pretty well.

I don't remember whether Jason was hiding his face from the camera or whether he was just lying down because he felt like it. Maybe it was both.

These self-portraits have been an interesting exercise, in that they represent a significant departure from my normal process of image-making. I typically approach photography in a relatively reactive way—I try to keep a camera on me most of the time, and if something catches my eye, I shoot it. Even my commercial portraiture works in mostly the same way; rather than trying to control a photo session, I instead choose a good location and time of day, then mostly just try to have a good time and see what happens.

Self-portraits, of course, don't work that way. Every image has to be constructed, and moreover it has to be visualized beforehand. That's not something I've had much experience with, and forcing myself to work in a more deliberate manner has been interesting. It doesn't have quite the same thrill as capturing a moment as it happens, but there's a certain feeling of craftsmanship to it that's gratifying.

I don't think I'm going to be completely switching to this new mode of shooting any time in the near future, but at the very least it's given me something to think about.

Last one for the week, I promise.

Juliette and the kids were home less than twenty-four hours after I took this picture. There was really no reason to be quite so emo.

"With a bed this big," I said, "we might as well be sleeping in different rooms. We won't even know the other person is even in it."

Maybe, though, with a bed this big I won't know she's not next to me, even while she's away.

It's important to take a moment now and then. Though, perhaps rinsing out the recycling isn't the most apt of moments.