These are two of my favorite shots from this year's St. Agata Festa. There is the youngest candle bearer that I saw all evening. Look at him covered in wax. He was so serious, so intense and seemed wise beyond his years. And then there was the friendly,beaming man selling his homemade St. Agata statues on a rickety table on a sidewalk. He was so proud of his handiwork and really how could I pass up the Saint in all of her glittery glory? St. Agata now has a place of honor on the bookshelf in our living room.
I find myself drawn to faces these days. I have overcome some of my earlier hesitation about asking to take stranger's photographs. It's an odd and intimate exchange: stopping a stranger, chatting, peering through a lens, adjusting, taking another shot, thanking them, walking on, and later re-examining the image and remembering that moment in time with them.