A Commonplace Life

New Content : www.amydrucker.com/blog

Amy — Thu, 17 Jan 2013 12:56:10 +0000

This site has moved.
Updated content may be found at: www.amydrucker.com/blog.
Please come visit.

Things I See (Birthday Party Edition)

Amy — Mon, 23 Jul 2012 17:07:50 +0000

]]>

Elina and Kevin :: Expecting

Amy — Fri, 20 Jul 2012 14:39:17 +0000

I really have no words here. Elina and Kevin will be holding their baby within a month and it leaves me speechless. She is growing a human inside her amazing body and he is supporting her. Together they are a family and, of course, they have no idea what they’re in for. And it’s beyond my ability to describe. And they let me document it. And moreover? I get to be there for the birth. No words.

Isabelle.

Amy — Tue, 26 Jun 2012 23:36:59 +0000

I don’t look back with terrific fondness on my teenage years but I wish for more out of my children’s adolescence. It’s my hope that they will one day look back and view those years as the time they came to understand their strengths and weaknesses and began to truly love themselves. (Yes, I’m aware that I have high hopes.)

As the mother of a teenager (I still choke a little bit when I say that out loud) I’ve watched with keen interest as he and his friends have entered this next phase of their lives. And I have a developed a particular fondness for photographing children as they embark on these complicated years. This is Isabelle. She’s twelve. Isabelle has an elaborate soul filled with brilliant ideas and sweet dreams and I adore photographing her.

A quote from my son’s favorite author speaks my feelings best here:

“When adults say, “Teenagers think they are invincible” with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don’t know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail.” ― John Green, Looking for Alaska

Summer Evenings :: Elizabeth

Amy — Mon, 25 Jun 2012 22:21:43 +0000

I’m so in love with everything summer right now that I would drink a glass of it if I could. I’m working on pictures that will help bring back these lazy dreamy days when the February blues hit hard. This is Elizabeth. Maybe you’ve seen her in some of my photos before? It’s lovely to work with the same model over a period of time and watch her grow and change. And it makes for a particularly poignant benchmark to measure growth and change in my own work. Elizabeth is a joy to photograph. Of course, she’s beautiful. But she’s also a deep thinker and very playful at the same time. She’s six by the way. We had a great time shooting at sunset last night. She told me about her grandparents and she suggested poses she wanted to try. She twirled in the grass and and we discussed the pros and cons of picking wildflowers. She said she would give these to her mother.

Hello Summer, I’ve Been Waiting for You.

Amy — Thu, 21 Jun 2012 12:08:37 +0000

Just a few of the things on my summer love list:

Popsicles on the front stoop. After dinner walks. Bare feet. Sprinklers. Fireflies. The smell of chlorine in my children’s hair when I kiss them goodnight. Beach reading. Wrinkly-pool-soaked-toes. Impromptu visits. Late mornings. Sandy PBJ sandwiches. Canoes. Reunions. Tomatoes off the vine. My husband wearing shorts. Flip flops. Eating outdoors. Strawberry margaritas.

(And a selection of pictures from my project 365 taken over the past month.)

A Family Story

Amy — Tue, 12 Jun 2012 00:28:08 +0000

The word family means something different to everyone who hears it. Mine is blended and if I were documenting it (and I do) the photos would include my two sons, their fathers, a gaggle of grandparents and a handful of close friends I’m lucky enough to consider a part of it all. I’m sure yours is different, and though this isn’t a particularly political blog, I will say that I fully support your right to create your family any way you see fit. I’m certain beyond any shadow of a doubt that there can’t be too much love in this world. I’m fascinated by all the ways families come to be. My life has been changed by witnessing the selflessness of people who care for infants before they have been placed with their forever homes. Still more people I hold dear have chosen to build their families through surrogacy and adoption. When it’s all said and done and a family is created it’s a beautiful messy joyous thing—and that’s what I love best about documenting it. Every family has a dynamic and if I’ve captured a little bit of yours—if I’ve told some of your story—It’s a pretty great thing.

Kids with Kids

Amy — Tue, 10 Apr 2012 23:58:27 +0000

I live and work in a small town. It’s the kind of place where you can’t make a quick trip to the store in your pajamas if you don’t want to run into one or six people you know. (If you know me, you’ll also know that being seen in my pajamas in town isn’t something I wrestle too much with myself about.) It’s the kind of place where shopkeepers ask after your family and know how you like your coffee. If you’re a photographer who specializes in kids (and have two in local schools) and spend an afternoon at the children’s bookstore (which is the sort of place that invites baby goats from a local farm in for story time) you’re likely to know a majority of the children by name.

I love all these things about this small town.

It’s official, I’m a Soccer Mom.

Amy — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 00:11:30 +0000

]]>

untitled

Amy — Sat, 31 Mar 2012 23:29:27 +0000

You know that moment when something goes wrong, when something happens, and before you have time to consider the implications or wallow in the muck, you kick into Mom-gear? In case you’re unaware, Mom-gear is the gear where you just start dealing and checking shit off your list? It’s the one right after high speed and right before exhaustion. I’ve had that week. Dodging curve-balls left and right and bobbing and weaving as the punches came my way. And now it’s Saturday and the universe isn’t showing any signs of letting up anytime soon. And yet, I managed two visits with my recuperating father (thank you for asking, he’s going to be fine). And two separate lunches with friends. One good long walk in the city of my childhood and two big jobs signed. My desk resembles my teenager’s room and we’re out of boxed macaroni and cheese. It’s a mess and I’m tired. But Niall is in the other room playing cards with Quinn and Jake is spending the night with his Dad. All’s well. And tomorrow, maybe, we’ll get some good news.