on 9/11 – stockpiling joy

This morning as I was pouring my cup of coffee I heard the bells.

It’s a nasty gray day here in lower Manhattan – seems apropos, really. The normally vibrant section of Tribeca is somber and quiet and the occasional sound of the tolling of the bells at ground zero seems to linger in today’s heavy air matching the heavy hearts wandering the neighborhood.

On 9/4/2001, a week to the day before the towers came down, I took this picture of my son, Miles. It was part of a series that my wife and I were doing entitled, “Miles above New York.” We took him, then about 5 months old, around to various landmarks and photographed him held up in the air. He always beamed when we did that. The series was supposed to be a reflection of the amazement and unbridled joy of living in this city.

A week later we watched as those towers came down.

It wasn’t until I came across this image a few days later that I realized how well it actually succeeded in doing what we had intended. Of all of the thousands of images that I’ve seen of the towers since that day, I don’t think I’ve ever come across one that is as foreboding and yet that clearly conveys a sense of wonder, awe and joy as this one does. Given our retrospective abilities I think it speaks of hope now as well.

I keep this image up in the studio – not as a reminder of the towers, but as a personal reminder of the power of photographs and what I do for a living. While we can’t stop the inevitable passing of time, we can preserve moments of joy that can be relived. I think that’s what my work is really about.

I suppose in a way I’m stockpiling joy for my clients.

I hope that those actually watching the bell toll today have ample stockpiles as well.