At the age of 4 1/2, Bob remembers kissing me in the back of my mother's station wagon, my mother having gone inside to pay the electric bill. Not long after that, Bob's family moved to Albuquerque, mine staying in Santa Fe, a distance of some 60 miles. Time went by, we lived our lives, and then one day, 19 years later, he came looking for me, like a knight in a fairy tale. Reunited, we became friends, then lovers, then married some 14 years and one daughter later. A few years later we had a second daughter--this time in wedlock, much to my mother's great relief.
From the beginning of the rekindling of our "romance", Bob has been the subject of a multitude of images that I've done of him over the years. I've done strange things to him, photographing him when he was asleep, watching TV, raking leaves in the nude, or simply sitting on the couch sewing, then transforming these photographs into any number of images with titles like "Two Men Inside their Mother", "Stolen Snake" or "Man Waiting to be Held". One of the biggest pleasures in my working day is when I'm done with a piece and get to watch his face when I show him in his latest incarnation. He will stand in front of the painting, face serious, not saying anything. Then he will began to nod ever so slightly, and finally he will say ¨that's great". The last thing is that he'll smile his lovely, warm, big smile that lets me know how pleased he is, once again, that I've turned a photograph into something unexpected and wonderful.