Here’s a photo of me in the darkroom in my childhood home, where I learned to print.
Three years ago, my brother-in-law, Kent Miller, showed up for a family gathering with fresh chemistry for the darkroom and a box of paper. I hadn’t been in there for a decade. I thought I was done with it. But there’s something special about the red lights, the sound of water and the fan. Lots of time to think while waiting for the timers. Apparently, darkroom wasn’t done with me. Thank you Kent for getting me back in here. And thank you also for this beautiful photo of a new beginning.
