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Introduction
The ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus is often associated with the idea that we cannot step into the same river twice. The water has moved on and so have we. The same rivers carry different waters. They remain recognizable because they continue to flow.
I kept returning to that thought after spending much of July with my family in Milwaukee then, after returning to California, camping with friends near the South Yuba River.
My brother had returned from Australia for the first time in three years. His twins were six. My mother was hosting and it was my sister's birthday. We gathered to celebrate the Fourth of July and a rare reunion of several generations in the place where much of our family history began.
1. Home Sweet Home Again
I returned to Milwaukee less than six months after my previous visit, although July made the house feel completely different. Long daylight, dense green trees, warm evenings and a heat wave pushed the upstairs temperature into the mid-nineties.
As an adult now, I experience the house and the work it requires differently. The yard that needs watering, the branches that need trimming and the basement pathways that need clearing. Things that once seemed to take care of themselves now reveal the continuous work my parents had been doing all along.
My mom still carries much of that work. She organized much of the gathering, shopped for food and prepared the house. She baked, decorated and brought everyone together.
2. Preparing the House
The most visible preparation centered on my late father’s grill. It had been sitting unused outside for years and required several days of cleaning before we could use it. I removed leaves, organic debris and insect nests. I scraped the grates, checked the burners and returned it to working condition.
When the birthday barbecue finally began, I found myself standing behind the grill with the spatula, cooking bratwurst and hamburgers while everyone gathered around the table. It was my first time cooking on my dad's grill.
Preparing the house also meant preparing to document what would happen inside it. I had my camera equipment to deploy and manage, along with several ideas about what it might allow me to capture.
Thinking cinematically, I wanted the obvious photographs but also transitions around them. I wanted the progression of everyone arriving, people coming through the door, food being prepared and activity moving between rooms. I wanted the quieter views before and after everyone left because the contrast would help reveal what had just occupied the space. I looked for establishing images, connective details and B roll moments that can later give an experience shape.
3. The Family Archive
I was raised between two enthusiastic family photographers. My mother almost always had a point-and-shoot camera nearby, while my father carried a larger camera with a zoom lens and blinking flash. We called it R2D2. At birthdays and family gatherings, we often had to shift focus between them as each tried to get the photograph first.
The cameras were so constant that being photographed became part of how an occasion was acknowledged. The interruption was familiar. We knew when the picture was happening, where to look and when we could return to whatever we had been doing.
The evidence still surrounds us. Family photographs line the hallways and stairwells, with more gathered around my mother’s desk in the dining room. A digital Skylight frame, now broken, usually cycles through newer memories as they are added. Through each change in technology, the house continues to function partly as an archive of the people who have moved through it.
I inherited one of my father’s cameras, a Canon D60 DSLR, along with some of his instinct to preserve what was happening around him. Over time, that instinct became part of my professional practice. I have produced videos, managed large media libraries and designed custom tools for people to explore visual collections.
As a result, I tend to gather more material than I may ultimately use. I collect generously, knowing that I can make editing decisions later. Once the moment is captured, any processing can happen on its own timeline.
4. Arriving in Waves
Family arrived in waves, each group following its own schedule. Some relatives stayed nearby and moved between the house and their own plans. Others came for meals, visits and events before leaving again. The gathering formed, dispersed and reassembled in different configurations.
The Fourth of July came together at the last minute. My brother Dave and I ran up to Klode Park and managed to find a place close to the front shortly after the fireworks began. They exploded almost directly overhead, close enough to fill our vision and feel the booms.
The next wave arrived from Australia with jet lag, two active six-year-olds and another family rhythm of its own. It took time for everyone to adjust and warm up. When we were together, the house became intensely active, with games, conversations and children playing as the World Cup appeared in the background for several days.
One morning, I found my brother had come over before his family had awakened and was sitting in the upstairs hallway outside his old bedroom where I was now staying. After three years in Australia, he was quietly reading a newspaper article about bratwurst, one of the most Milwaukee subjects imaginable.
