I took this photograph yesterday. Maria is an avid reader.
I’ve mentioned we are trying to do less work on weekends; I’m halfway there. Sunday, I read in silence for three or four hours, and it was sweet time. No matter how often I take Maria’s portrait, she seems different. Maria is not one thing but many things. This one is the real here – at times. That is a fascinating and rare thing about her. Every time I look at my portraits, she is different.
It’s time for my fairy Godflower, Sue Lamberti, co-owner of the new and thriving Cambridge Florist company, to go into my Portrait Collection; I only take portraits of people I like, respect, and love. Sue makes it for all three. She is a silent partner in my flower photography; whenever I need a flower or struggle with colors, I get into the car and head for Sue. She never lets me down and is a lot of fun. I always leave them laughing, and I am also proud of her; she and her partner Micheal did an excellent job starting a new business in a small town.
Thanks for being such a good sport, Sue, and for being such a good friend and a great Godflower. You’re also a pretty fantastic florist. I’m learning that no real artist ever does it entirely alone. Welcome to my small but much-loved portrait family, Sue.
As I’ve said, I’m choosing about my Portrait Gallery, I only admit people I love, like a lot, or respect deeply. Only about 15 people are in my gallery, and this morning, I went to the Cambridge Flower Shop to take a portrait (with my portrait lens) of Sue Lamberti, the co-owner of this charming flower shop. Sue is my angel; she has a remarkable instinct for what I like and need. She has been instrumental as a partner in my flower photography; she always has flowers waiting for me and has excellent suggestions. She has also become a good friend; I often stop in to talk with her; she is kind, funny, and honest and has worked like a demon to get her flower shop going.
She has made a huge difference in my flower work.
She has succeeded, and I am grateful for her friendship and honored to put her into my gallery. Her smile and love of flowers are very real. She is one of those people who lights up a room with her smile. Thanks, Sue, you are a wonderful friend. Much love, Jon
As I’ve said, I only take portraits of people I love and respect; they always come out well.
I love Maria immensely and respect her as well. Our marriage is built on respect and support.
She loves writing for her blog and has become a skilled and accomplished writer. When she is writing on the blog, she sits in her writing chair by the window—blogging is the only time I see her in it—and is lost in thought. She chooses her words carefully and works meticulously. She cares a great deal about her blog and the words she uses.
I love the “Blogger” series; it captures a part of her that only the dogs and I see but that I always want to share.
As you know, I only take portraits of people I like, love, or respect. Harold Snell is one of them. I asked him if he would sit still for a portrait of himself with his rescued dog Mia, and he said sure, he would be happy to do it.
Mia
Harold Snell is a big man who drives a huge truck. He has a small black dog, a Corgi named Mia, alongside him, riding shotgun. She lies on a soft blanket. There is always water and some treats handy, and I love the way she and Harold love one another. I’ve learned that many prominent and powerful men in trucks I know around here have companion dogs who ride along with them and wait patiently while they work. We had a stove cleaner, a giant from New York City come to the house for several years to clean our stove. One day I found him sobbing on the floor. His dog had just died.
It sometimes allows these men to show their deep emotions and feelings, which they are rarely taught to share, even with their families.
Harold’s passion, aside from his work, is rescuing dogs in need of help. His family shares this desire.
Snell and his family are deeply involved in animal rescue. The worse the dog’s condition, the quicker they are to adopt it and work as long as it takes to heal and love it. I’ve seen a dozen rescue dogs with Harold Snell and his sons come to our house.
They are loved, well cared for, and devoted to their humans, as grateful rescue dogs often are.
“Mia is the dog I always want with me,” he said.
Mia was born without functioning hips. She was owned by an Amish family (not my neighbors), and since the Amish don’t generally believe in going to vets, the family adopted her seven or eight years ago. She’s had some surgery, but her legs and hips are still impaired; she can’t run around like most dogs do.
Seeing the two together is a heartlifter. Harold, who does general contracting, sewer, and septic work, is crazy about Mia, and she returns the favor. She’s a sweet dog and loves her comfy blanket and pillow set up for her in the truck. She is always quiet when he works, and our dogs have always been calm and generous when a Snell dog shows up.
The first time I met Harold, he had five corgis in the front seat of his truck, and all of them loved riding around with him. Coda, his main companion for years, died last December, and Mia succeeded him.
I’ve helped the family find homes for one of the two seemingly unadoptable dogs they’ve saved, and the dogs are all thriving.
Mia has a back story that can get a dog lover misty.
The Snell family is committed to rescuing dogs, mostly corgis but also border collies. “I do get bit once in a while,” Harold said, “but I don’t mind. The dogs don’t mean any harm; they’ve just been mistreated or scared to death.”
My grandmother would have called Harold a “mensch”—someone who is honest, responsible, and eager to do good. This description fits Harold well.
