The family came over on Sunday afternoon for a couple of hours of snaps. It’s been a while since I rallied the troops for photos. Life moves fast, and as they get older—and appreciably so—they like “Dad photos” less and their own photos more. But here we were—Shannon, Emma, Audrey, and Tom. Michael, Shannon’s partner, was away for the weekend, and Sam, Audrey’s partner, was a bit under the weather.
As a general rule, we try to gather for a weekly family night. This week was no exception. These gatherings, however small or large, are the glue. They remind me that in a world that constantly demands more, pulls us in different directions, and too often values hustle over heart, the true currency of life is time spent with those we love.
We live in a society that has become more fragmented than ever. Real connection, the kind that happens face-to-face, in real-time, unfiltered, and uncurated, is slipping through our fingers. I see it everywhere. People distracted. Families disconnected. Love, once an unshakable foundation, is treated as a luxury instead of a necessity. And yet, this—family, relationships, love—is the one thing that remains. It is the one thing that matters.
I have met and photographed tens of thousands of people in my life and career. But not a single one do I enjoy more than members of my own family—smart, funny, anchored, artistic, imperfectly beautiful. I couldn’t be prouder.
Now, about these photos.
They were shot on an iPhone 16 Pro Max, mostly using my 5X (120mm) telephoto lens. I love this focal length for portraiture—tight, intimate, cinematic. The inside shots were taken with a single Neewer FS230 with a parabolic reflector—just enough to sculpt the light without making it feel artificial. For color, I leaned into RNI Films, specifically the Agfa Optima 200 preset, which gave the images a timeless, slightly warm, filmic quality.
But here’s the thing: none of the tech really matters without the people. The camera, the lens, the light—those are just tools. What matters is the moment, the love, the laughter in between frames. The fleeting expressions that tell the real story.
So, this is me, reminding myself—and maybe you, too—to show up. To take the pictures, make the memories, and hold onto the moments that matter most. Because at the end of the day, when the world feels too fast, too fractured, too fleeting, this is what remains. La Familia.
Click.
Jack.
