Love Lived Here

Speaking of fire.

You'll remember my earlier post about the tragic fire in Bentonville that claimed the lives of 5 little girls, one of whom my mother tutored. I have been yearning to photograph the house. Call me morbid. I just think it needs to be remembered. When it first happened, I wanted to go in the house to shoot.

I didn't.

I have driven by the house a few times, mostly right after the fire. But there was too much going on. Too many TV cameras. Too many people leaving flowers and writing farewell notes on the house. Too many peers leaving flowers. Too sad.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm no photojournalist. But there's a story here. There's the report that meth and pot were found in the house. This is disputed by the family. There's the public rush to judge. There's the loss of these innocent little girls. The loss to their family. The loss to their friends. There's the reports of how many time police and DHS were called to the house over the years.

And then there's my mom, who is convinced the parents loved those little girls. Kristen, the girl my mom worked with, was always talking about her dad, and all the things they all did as a family. The girls all loved each other it seems.

So yeah , there's a story here. I'm certainly not the one to tell it. How does one tell a story of love being seemingly quenched (torched, as it were) by such a tragedy? I'm not sure. But for whatever reason, I feel compelled to try, so tonight I drove by the house and spent about an hour shooting about 50 shots. I had no idea how to compose. It was like shooting landscape--you're not going to get the whole Grand Canyon, so you have to compose for a foreground object and background subject as well. I tried almost everything in the bag. Ultra-wide. 50mm prime. Zoom. Flash. No flash. Shutter dragging (lots of that). I gave it an hour. I needed 3. I needed an assistant. I needed more lighting stuff (reflectors, umbrellas, softbox, etc.).

I hope I'll follow up and finish this before the house gets torn down or whatever. For now, here's the first fully processed photograph from a series I will call "Love Lived Here."