30 September

Morning Kiss And A Cookie

by Jon Katz
Morning Kiss
Morning Kiss

There is no doubt Chloe’s love is motivated by a cookie sometimes, animals often learn to love people in that way, they are dependent on us and food is their salvation. Of course they love us for giving it to them. But there is also something beyond that in these moments, the morning kiss. They are truly happy and energized to see one another, Chloe perks up, paws the ground, whinnies and mumbles, Maria lights up, and then the two connect. A very lovely way to start the morning here.

30 September

See The Light

by Jon Katz
See The Light
See The Light

An infrared photo, I converted it to black and white and I love the way it captured the unseen light out in the pasture and the sky. It inspired me, I want to get a full-frame infrared camera, it will take me awhile to get the $4,000 I need. Some things are worth waiting for.

29 September

Shooting Pool At The Bog

by Jon Katz
Shooting Pool At The Bog
Shooting Pool At The Bog

It was quiet at the Bog (Foggy Notions) tonight, Kelly said it is school tax payment time, and many people cut back on eating out until they get their taxes paid. It is something I never would have thought of until recently, and our school taxes were more than $3,000, we cut back quite a bit this month.

But we have enough left over for the bog, two people can eat well there for $25 and when you work all day in the house, you sometimes just need to get out. Some younger people went over to the pool game and I heard the soft and satisfying click of the balls hitting one another and bouncing off the sides.

I spent a good deal of time playing pool once, and it is a sweet sound, full of memory. I asked them if I could take their picture, and one asked if I wanted to photograph them because they were women playing pool.

No, I said, because I just wanted a photograph of people playing pool. They happily agreed.

29 September

Portraits Of The Unseen. Joan.

by Jon Katz
Portraits Of The Unseen
Portraits Of The Unseen

I have been taking photos of older people for seven or eight years now, in my hospice and therapy work. I always ask the subject if he or she is comfortable having their photo taken, and I always ask a few other questions to make certain they understand. I tell them I may put their photos up on a blog.

Some are initially uncomfortable with the idea of being photographed, they are concerned they might look old, or that their wrinkles and weathered faces might not be attractive. I tell them their faces are beautiful to me, and full of character, and that is the truth.

No one I have ever asked has declined to be photographed, and I asked one of the people who came to visit from the Mansion Assisted Care Facility today why she thought that was so. “Because we are never seen,” she said, without hesitating, “and everyone needs to be seen.”

Modernization has not demoted the elderly, it tended to disrupt and diminish the family.

The young and the old now have live with more freedom and control, and some of that freedom is the opportunity to live apart from older people. In some cultures, the old are honored, even venerated. In our culture, we celebrate our independence from them, we worship our own independence.

This has caused older people some new and painful problems.

Our society – our planners, futurists, politicians, doctors – seem to have not anticipated the reality of what happens to older people in life, sooner or later. Independence becomes impossible, and illness and infirmity will come. So the new question lingers, and goes unanswered: if independence is what we all live for, then what do we do when it is no longer possible, and our families are no longer responsible?

What do we live for then? I have never heard much of an answer. We tend to hide and look away.

We have chosen institutionalization as the answer. I always ask the people I photograph if they are happy, and almost all of them say yes, or frequently, they shrug. They are happy to be safe. “I love where I live,” one of the Mansion people told me. “I always feel safe there and well cared for and have good friends.  I can’t live alone any longer, my husband died years ago and my children have their own lives.”

Still, there is a sadness at times, and an inevitable isolation from the normal comforts of life.

Animals help, visits help, and I believe being seen and known helps. I see my photography of the elderly as the art of the unseen, capturing the images of people who would not otherwise be seen or photographed. And their appreciation of this tells me that it is needed. One day, I’d love to do a photo show of the people in the Mansion and other facilities Red and I visit.

When I asked Joan if I could take her photo, she looked me in the eye and smiled. “Absolutely,” she said, and then told Maria wonderful stories of growing up on a farm and learning to ride the pigs all over the place. I loved the character in her face, it’s integrity and authenticity. She loved her farm, and loved seeing ours.

I will send  her a copy of this photograph, to make sure she knows she has been seen. If you wish to send her a note, you can write to her c/o Joan, Resident, The Mansion, at 11 South Union Street,  Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.

29 September

Portrait: Richard.

by Jon Katz
Richard
Richard came to the farm with the group from the Mansion Assisted Care Facility in Cambridge, N.Y., he asked a lot of questions, but said he didn’t need to go near the animals, he tossed me a bag of apple slices left over from lunch. A few minutes later, he came over to the pasture fence and held his hand out to Chloe, there was an apple slice in it.

The pony took the slice and raised her nose to him. She likes you, said Maria, and Richard lit up. He grinned from ear to ear.

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