Welcome to my digital photo box, photos at koaseeds, a.k.a. photos.koaseeds.com, or http://photos.koaseeds.com. You can visit some ot my other intersts at different links, which aren't linked yet.

The first thing my mother put in my hand when I braved my first steps was a Brownie Instamatic, the box kind. (Exaggeration for emphasis.) Remember those old cameraa? Mama would not even consider my doing less than my barely-older brothers, so I learned to take pictures, too.

As teenagers, my brothers were required to spend time in my father's darkroom, mixing chemicals, preparing prints and things like that. Mostly, my brothers were annoyed at their photo duties. Being the LittleSister, my time in the darkroom was when I wanted to be there, so it was something I enjoyed. My favorite task was cropping the images for for prints.

My father taught us how to see the world through a lens, a shoebox, the tip of a paintbrush or encircled in fingers. It was my mother, a sticlker for composition, who insisted that all people captured on film retain their feet, that no subject be decapitated or scalped, and that the capture be pleasantly angled. 

My father spent a few years as a photographer for the US Army, and that was the extent of professional attached to photographery in my family. My brothers and I, like our mother & father, went on to other pursuits. What one learns as a child lasts a lifetime — it was LittleBrother and I who never escaped the lure of clicking the camera.

A photo addiction requires frequent snaps, and Camera goes where I go. A local, noted photographer told me how to be a great photographer: throw away a hundred pictures, and keep the good one.  I carefully select photos to print from among the thousands of digital files on that hard drive over there. Then it's time to get back to work, so I never really finish the pic project. I do miss the -real- boxes & boxes of photos.

aloha!

PS. Check out my other sites: Marriage in Hawaii, Hawaii Wedding Album & Trimalleolar Fracture