Adieu, Tidewater!

Back in the early 80s, my first job was delivering The Virginian-Pilot newspaper. I was 12-years-old, knee high to a grasshopper, and eager to earn money to fund the purchase of a complete skateboard.

Each day, without fail, I filled the basket of my beach cruiser and raced through my route with finesse. I knew exactly how to bundle my papers, how to stock them into my baskets and bags with the greatest efficiency. I had the art of newspaper delivery down to a science.

With the precision of a surgeon, I learned how to swiftly handle the paper and toss it without ripping any of the coveted A1 section fronts that elegantly displayed images from some of the most talented photojournalists in the nation. At the time, I had no idea that years later my images would be displayed on this very same section front.

Intermittently throughout the last decade as a staff photographer at The Pilot, I've had the opportunity and honor to share the aforementioned section front with some of the same photojournalists whose work graced the pages I used to deliver. How times have changed.

Today, those fronts are still valuable real estate and the photographs that adorn them remain community gems. However, the paperboy is now an iconic relic of the past. The journalist furiously slinging paper and ink to make the evening deadline is sure to follow as the rate to disseminate today's news is pressed to mach speeds.

Fortunately, somewhere out there in the unknown aether, a young innovative mind is tinkering with the future. Unbeknownst to all, this individual, or these people, or this movement, will develop a sustainable business model for journalism. When that day arrives, I will be the first one to voluntarily hop back on my bike and deliver the first edition. Or, more likely, I'll be the first one to navigate the comfort of my keyboard and pay to have the news delivered to my phone instantaneously.

That said, like many of our readers in Tidewater, each morning I begin my day with the paper and breakfast. It's been my ritual for longer than I can remember. 

Tomorrow, I will pick The Pilot off of my driveway for the last time. Tomorrow, I will work my final day as a photojournalist for my boyhood community. Tomorrow, I will bid farewell to my Pilot family.

The edit of photographs below are a selection of some of the images and experiences you all have allowed me to be a part of and share with our neighbors. Thank you, Tidewater; it's been an honor.

On that note, I'm grateful to announce that I'll be taking on a new role as the Photographic Resources Supervisor at the Heritage College of Osteopathic Medicine at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio. I will be shooting, editing, managing and handling the visual branding/marketing of the college's photography efforts.

If you're ever in Ohio, look me up.

Adieu, Tidewater!

*Click on any image to view larger or begin slideshow. 

Out of the Decay for: Distinction Magazine

If walls could talk I am certain much of our personal and national history could be revealed and the need for history books might cease to exist. Well, maybe thats too much of a stretch but you get the picture. 

Out of Decay: a Norfolk Art Scene Rises, looks at the history of the brick and mortar at the once thriving Daylight Bakery built in 1923. In its heyday the little Norfolk plant was producing bread for dozens of neighborhood markets throughout Hampton Roads. However, by 1963, with suburban sprawl, growing pains and a union dispute, the little bakery closed their doors. 

It wasn't until 2002 that antique dealer Lana Wolcott saw potential in the building, giving birth to Fawn Street Studios. Rather than go into too much detail I suggest you read Mike Hixenbaugh's story that traces the past and present of this building's lifespan. His words take you through the building's metamorphosis from the bread to the cobwebs to a facilitator of the Norfolk art scene with an array of color that I can't begin to match. 

In the end you will find that beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder, at least in the case of Fawn Street Studios. 

Life Milked Daily for: Distinction Magazine

If the convenience of daily life as we know it today ceased to exist, if we were forced to return to our hunter/gatherer roots, how many of us would fall to the theory of Darwinism? 

For Maureen and Kevin Anderson it's a non-issue for them and their eight children. In the rural enclave known as Pungo, just on the outskirts of suburban Virginia Beach, VA the Anderson family are living a sustainable lifestyle. With a 30 acre parcel of land , the Hearthside Farm nurtures a "lifestyle that revolves around self-sustainability, organic agriculture and the homespun."

This idyllic country oasis provides all of the family's income. Additionally, they craft some of the wool from the sheep into clothing, use eggs from their chickens, gather honey from their beehive, and some of the land provides additional food for family meals. One major production that occurs on the farm is the creation of handmade soap that is sold locally in boutiques and groceries. Believe it or not, their soap - officially known as Tasha's Own provides a large portion of the family's income. 

During my time on the farm, I often left smelling less like a bar of French Lavender or Autumn Spice and more like, well, a farm. It was a fascinating juxtaposition from the aroma of herbs, spices, and other concoctions that blanketed the rustic atmosphere inside the Anderson's home.  

This irony, this balancing, it's enough to inspire the homesteader in me, at least until the rooster crows. 

Do yourself a favor and read the entire article in this quarter's issue of Distinction Magazine. The colorful words are provided by one of my favorite writers Joanne Kimberlin.