I like photographing Abby the way I half-remember Marilyn Monroe was photographed: with incredibly diffuse illumination, bathed in light, dreamy. They’re my favorite sort of photographs and they don’t always have to be in black and white. 

I’m a bit too tired now to really go over the pictures I took today at the baby shower with much of an eye, but after a cursory glance my favorite is this one up at the top and it has nothing really to do with the party we, mostly not me, spent an awful lot of time planning. It was a great party, I think the planners really nailed it.

 

The party was full of bubbles, made of soap and made of people who we love. We drank beer and ate tacos and listened to music and some of us flirted and some of us pooped in diapers. 

It was very casual and it didn’t rain, except for just a few minutes at just the right time. It was like the rain was telling everyone the hosts were tired and it was time to head out.

Baby showers are fascinating because they’re about a human everyone at the party will love, but hasn’t met. At least ostensibly, in reality they’re about the parents, in this case, me and Abby, the person I think ought to be photographed like Marilyn Monroe far more often. 

I spent most of the party thinking about the people here and how they’ll be with this new person. I had something of a hard time really thinking of this new person themselves, more their context. It’s like thinking about bears by thinking about Yellowstone, or whales by thinking about the sea, or Marilyn Monroe by thinking about Tri-X pushed a stop or two.