Jevgeniia at 8 months

Madonna and Child

Cigar Girl

All the worlds a stage

All the world is a stage and this is the fourth image in a series entitled, "Beauty and the Performance". The terrific painting you see in the photograph is by artist William Schulman.

The Bride

The Evolution of an Idea

I normally post portrait related idea's and themes on this blog but my new fine art series that I'm in the infant stages of loosely ties in with portraiture. You can read more at my fine art website blog.

High School graduation brings new beginnings and charished memories

I haven't written a poem in a very long time. When my kids were younger I traveled an average of 7 days a month. This poem which is in honor of my daughter graduating from high school was written about eleven years ago. It's based on conversations I've had with my daughter, McKenzie, usually during breakfast or in the car. I wrote this poem with tears in my eyes from Rye, New York. I was there doing a photo shoot. That evening in my hotel room I called home, like I did every night I was on the road, to talk to the family. When Kenzie got on the phone she was so excited to tell me about a boy in her, class that she liked, and was able to sit next to on the bus that day. I was happy and excited for her and her special day but sad knowing how much better this story would have been if she was sharing it while we had dinner that evening. Seeing the sparkle in her eyes and the tone of her voice sharing it for all to hear. With the conversation over I took a walk around the hotel grounds, went back to my room and poured out this poem for my daughter.

DADDY, DO YOU CRY?

It was a weekday morning, music in the air

Son was in the bathroom, combing his hair

My head was in the paper, while eating cornflakes

Daughter sat beside me, picking her breakfast, while staring into space

Daddy, she says in her soft quiet voice

Daddy, she says as she looks up from her bowl

Daddy, do you ever cry?

Daddy, why don’t you cry?

Sweet child of mine with the curious mind

Try to understand, understand if you can

Sorrow is a feeling that you don’t usually see

I keep it hidden, deep within me

Happiness is present and seen most every day

But even my most joyful thoughts

Are rarely on display

Do I cry? Dear, yes I do

I cry the most, when I’m thinking of you

My first tear falls before you wake

Sunlight dancing, across your sweet face

I ask the golden glow that caresses your cheek

Become your suit of armor, as you sleep

With each new day I see you grow

Joy and sorrow the moisture hold

Each day I wake you from your sleep

Another tear for you I weep

Sorrow and Joy are not far apart

For tears don’t know the difference

When they fall or why they start

The heart knows the reason for each tear upon my cheek

I cherish the knowledge for which my heart speaks

You share with me excitement

About a boy in your class

A special friend, that makes your heart, beat “pitter-pat”

He sat beside you on the bus one spring day

A moment of your life, and mine I pray

I see you standing so proud upon the stage

Eyes scan the audience, you find strength to play

You firmly tuck your violin beneath your chin

Managing to smile, your fingers begin

Small fingers dance magic upon the strings

Bow massages the strings, the violin sings

The tears well up in my eyes each day

As I relive the moments from each passing day

You hold a special place in my heart

And that is where all the tears start

So when you asked me such a curious question

Daddy, do you cry?

My answer is now here on display

If you do not see a tear fall from my face

Rest assured, the right time, the right place

Your daddy does cry

Many tears fill your space.

Your friendly neighborhood Spider man

Before and After

Tastefully sexy for that special someone in your life. From the photo shoot through post production you are the star. Book your appointment commission now.

Jessica Rabbit oh how I love thee...

Anyone who has been to my studio or home knows that I collect figures. Horror figures, TV characters, movie characters, Bobble Heads.... Well, I haven't added to my collection in a while but last year when I photographed a model she saw the Jessica Rabbit doll displayed in my studio. Fast forward to this February, I emailed Ari to ask how she's been and that if she would like to do another photo shoot, to let me know. She surprised me with her tale of being inspired to make her own Jessica Rabbit costume after seeing the doll at my studio. Would you like to photograph me as Jessica Rabbit she inquired? Absolutely was my quick response. So last Friday she arrived at the studio mid-morning and by noon she was transformed into Jessica Rabbit.

The Portrait Society Gallery in Milwaukee sent out a request to send portraits of "Famous" people to be a small part of a larger exhibit that opens on March 19. These smaller portraits will be in the lounge/annex of the gallery. I have portraits of more famous people I've photographed including Joyce Carol Oates, Jane Hamilton and Mandy Patinkin but I really hoped that I could get the "Famous" Jessica Rabbit into the exhibit. I emailed gallery owner Debra Brehmer with my info and picture of Jessica and to my wonderful surprise she decided to include Jessica in the exhibit. Debra said, "Thank you for sending the image. My first thought was a woman dressed up as a fictitious cartoon character is probably not "Famous" enough for this show. But the image is so fetching that yes, I would like to include it." Thanks Debra!

Dear Dad

It has been four years since my father unexpectedly passed away. Even though I have certainly moved on, not a day goes by that I'm not reminded of him, think about him, or speak to him. I was fortunate to write this poem a few years before he passed away. It was a Christmas present to my father. A moment I will cherish forever. More than a few tears were shed that day. This weeks blog is dedicated to my father on the fourth anniversary of his passing.








Dear Dad
by william zuback

I.

The first thing I remember
Maybe I was four
Father running by my side
Strong hands to hold
Guided by a gentle push
I gain my independence
Comforted by the rhythmic steps
Pedals turning heart still churning
Both gasping for our breath

Turning around
Dad Still there
I knew I'd never stand alone

II.

Around the age of nine or ten
Dad took on the task
Helping to build a special car
To race among the best
Made of pine and looking fine
The car sped down the track
Encouraging the car
To pick up speed
And place above the rest
But on this special race day
It did not meet the challenge
The pine car did not place
One, two, or three
Pride was the trophy
I took home from the race
Pride of a father
Who made me feel like a winner
That night

Turning around
Dad Still there
I knew I'd never stand alone

III.

Sun rises on the horizon
Of my early teenage years
Finds father and son together
Spectators of dawns first light
The headlines delivered each and every day
One by choice and one by need
We'd meet in the middle to share the seam
Every morning like a clock
Mother nature woke us up
Few spoken words at the crack of dawn
Early morning meditation the conversation
Brings us together to share the news

Turning around
Dad Still there
I knew I'd never stand alone

IV.

Young adult and full of spite
Space was given but still we'd fight
I followed a path of my own invention
Mostly wrong but sometimes right
You respected my space
With a humble grace
And let me stumble but never fall
A thousand miles of open road
Eighteen hours sharing another seam
One by choice and one by need
No lecture or advice tonight

Turning around
Dad Still there
I knew I'd never stand alone

V.

Now a father I am proud
To use the wisdom handed down
I'm reminded of you every day
And for that I love you - Dad
More and more each day

Father is the tripod
Foundation of the image
The image grows each passing year
From wisdoms past
Guided by a gentle push
I gain my independence

Turning around
Dad Still there
I know I'll never stand alone!