What a day. Huge honor for me on multiple levels. Let's start with the bride. I have no daughters. But that's a lie. Because I have "types" in ladies like Tracey. I've known her most of her life. From being a little girl (She was never little. Never.) to this day, where she is more like a sister. Chris passed the grilling exam with flying colors. Tracey found a good thing and we all concur. I can't wait to grow old with this couple.

More honorable moments. I'll move quicker. I got to perform the ceremony. Sweet. I got to watch my son shoot his very first wedding. That was super sweet (But he better photoshop my triple chin). And then after the ceremony I had the pleasure of shooting the rooftop shots. And while we're all ecstatic about how they came out, I think it needs explaining so that you don't think that you can't attain the same shot. Remember that I am not a professional or even a semi-pro. I am a drummer who writes songs, who pastors on the side, who loves Melissa, Jordan and Donovan and who likes capturing moments with all forms of media. A pure hobby and pleasure type.

I've been thinking about for a while. It was not all shooting from the hip :-) Let me make that clear. The best photographer is a prepared photographer. And I agree with Eric Veras who quoted someone who said "the most important piece of gear in your bag is your attitude". It was blazing hot outside, completely blown out skies, way too much sun, and I was emotionally exhausted from the wedding (in the best way). But this was for Chris and Tracey. They didn't have much going into this wedding. And they had to deal with a major last minute cancellation: the photographer. What were they to do? Well...what are friends for? Father and son joined forces with Eric Veras (who is way more comfortable and coordinated than any of us, and was busy himself doing the videography!) and came home with a wedding portfolio that I know Tracey and Chris will be most pleased with. So what did we do?

Jordan handled all of the interior shots. Who wouldn't want to when you have Andre Vazquez providing the ceremony lighting design. Most of that he handled with the 70-200 2.8 L IS . The lens gave him the speed and flexibility thats needed when you're in tight spots. Jordan also loves shooting with natural light (reception) and the skylight at Maestros was amazing. Most of those shots were handle with daddy's Canon prime L glass. If you want speed, sharpness wide open and buttery dreamy bokeh, you have to go with fast prime glass, IMHO. Wait till you see these shots.

The rooftop shots (pictured) went as follows: Canon 5D Mark II, 17-40mm 4.0, B&W Polarized Filter, Canon Ex580 Speedlight w/Softbox

I underexposed all of my pics until the skies and background were right. Polarized filter was a must or else no blue skies. But that left the bride and groom almost pitch black. Then Jordan worked the speedlight/soft box masterfully, giving me all of the intensity variables needed. This was key to the success of these pics. Lighting is everything. Eric handled all of the direction. If it were not for him, we would not have given the bride and groom the necessary cues on what to do, how to pose, and all the necessary combinations. Our faithful assistant (Belinda Ramos) also cancelled at the last minute because Taffeta doesn't do well in hot conditions. She's no fool. It took her weeks to find that dress and she was not coming to the reception with big old sweat stains. Thanks Bel. We love you too.

Let it be known. Sessions like this require a team. None of this happens without community. Another reason why I love this stuff so much: I get to rub up against some of my favorite people. The sum is much greater than the parts. The proof is in the pic.

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These clients from The Living Room (click on photo to enlarge) are making their way outside to the street where hot soup, sandwiches and other basic needs are waiting for them. I like to think of it as "divine resources coming into contact with human need". Most importantly, love is expressed in the human touch. The Living Room is a city run shelter in Hunts Point, arranged like a cafeteria, with no beds or any privacy, simply tables and chairs. They're allowed to sign in and stay there but just imagine having to sleep sitting up in a chair? Don't close your eyes too long lest your belongings get stolen by another client. A very troubling sight. Nonetheless, a room filled with people. Real people.

Manna has a reputation of making good soup. Not homeless soup. That kind has no flavor. But love soup filled with care, attention and tremendous flavor. "Que sopa" was the highest compliment Manna Of Life volunteer Lydia Villanueva could receive. You see, she started making the soup at 3a.m. and could not return to bed until the soup finished 4 hours later. But that was not a problem for her because she cooked it with a divine energy. Its the stuff that comes from above when you are about the business of the kingdom of God. Alejandro Rente, a Cuban native who fled the revolution-ravaged island in '62, insisted on meeting the woman who made the soup. When I brought Lydia to him, all he could do was kiss her hand and exclaim, "que sopa!". He experienced the heart of God through a cup.

He, being a connoisseur of good food (what Cuban isn't), knew that there was something more that just a pot and some ingredients dumped together. He could takes the flavors that come from love for the one being served. The food that's cooked at home for family is "made with love" (Elena Valentin). Could this be? Could incarnational ministry have a taste to it? Could the flavors in food satisfy another deeper kind of appetite in every human being that lives apart from the true Manna? I'm gonna start cooking. That will be my new sermon for the streets. Away with words! Start sautéing some garlic!

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After taking a closer look, I realized this pic says so much. Its all there. (Click on pic to enlarge)

There's dad in lane 4 moving towards lane 5. There's only six lanes. Could these lanes be life?

Look where I'm at. Lane 1. It feels that way. Dad is 83 years old. I'm 43. I started walking with him in the morning. Yes, I battle the voices that say "you should have started walking sooner". But those voices ring from yesterday and thank God, yesterday is gone. So are those voices. They die with the day past. Today I walk with dad.

Dad walks ahead of me because he is. Yet I still keep my eyes on him. My eyes stay on him because he's showing me how to walk through lanes 1-5. He's been there. He knows. Yet in his own frailty from the long journey, I also keep an eye on him in case he falls. Lanes 4-6 are not easy. He moves slower through those than he did 1-4. And I don't know how to walk there just yet. But he does. Don't be fooled by the pace of the elderly. In that pace is surety, wisdom, experience.

His shirt is bright yellow. Thank God. I can see him up ahead. His testimony has had the same brilliance. When God saved him, it was from a very dark place. He's been shining ever since. Perfect? We're talking about Dad, not Jesus. But Dad has always pointed the way towards Christ. I have never questioned The Way in my own life, though I may have rebelled against it. But those were my choices. My dad has never offered me a smoke, a toke, a drag, a puff, a drink, a peek, or anything else to numb my pain or satisfy the cravings of my sinful flesh. He's only presented The Way as the answer. He really had nothing else to offer. He even showed me the way in the physical, putting me on his lap to teach me how to read a map.

Dad don't lie. He never has since I was born. Tell him he lied and he'll break every other commandment to let you know you were wrong in accusing him of a lie. No room for lies. Truth be told.

Can't wait till tomorrow morning. I'll be walking with dad. Maybe I'll even get into lane 2. We'll see.

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