I photographed the Sunflower Festival at Kricklewood farm again this year. There is a tasting alley, where chefs prepare small bite-sized dishes to load up on a plate. There is a barbecue, music, artisans and craftspeople, tons of local vendors, a silent auction, and of course - GOATS! (and a few pigs and poultry, too). (And sunflower fields, though those weren't quite in bloom this year because of the rain)

The Murrays are one of those families that you want to have living on your block.

Though we were never actual neighbours, my kids went to school with their kids, and my daughter counted their daughter among her besties. And whenever I saw them around, they simply brought energy and fun and goodness to the community. In short, the Murrays are good people.

Running, grinning, posing without prompt, a golden fidget spinner in the hand and plastic leis as vibrant crowns.

You’ll find all that and more, perhaps, should you be invited to photograph an 11th birthday party in the middle of July in Ontario.

And a photographer sitting in the grass, as a giant water balloon falls right on her crotch: risks of the trade.

After watching her work her magic for a little while, I naturally assume Audrey was a chemistry whiz in school. This artisanal chocolate business is part art, part science. But no, she says. She didn’t take chemistry in school. Her counsellor told her that she’d be no good at science. He suggested she’d do something more suitable. Like being a typist.

Spending this afternoon at the Toronto shore... It makes me miss the city. The scent of shawarma wafting through the summer air, the hum of traffic, the hiss and chimes of street-cars rounding corners, opening, and closing. Children somewhere, yelling, planes overhead, the pavement hot, the air - sticky.

Before I became a family photographer, I was a parenting researcher. I was interested in how parents behaved, and how their children developed.

However, most of the hands-on data collection and family visits were not done by me. They were done by research assistants who would collect the data and hand it over to us, the researchers. 

You've seen the photos social media tells you to have. You've seen it all.

What you might not have seen is that there is another way. Another way to document your days. Where the authentic is given full reign.

Ask yourself this: why did you fall in love with your life?

Paula also has a sense of humour and a keen sense of timing: she was the lady who, at the Kingston Town Hall with the prime minister in January, after ‘tensions began to escalate' as she puts it, asked Justin Trudeau what he does with his old ties. After he fumbled for an answer, she told him, "The reason why I asked is because I’m looking at your tie and thinking it would make a fabulous dog collar"

My studio photos from when I was a kid - I think I’ve got a couple of those - are empty vessels. They're fully devoid of context. Other than my cute pig-tails, and the virginal white dress, I can’t answer any questions about the time and place. What was I into at that period in my life? I didn’t wear dresses except on that one day my grandmother took me to the studio, and I didn’t wear my hair in pigtails, either, I know that much. I wore "boys'" clothes and played with sticks and stray kittens and I was afraid of frogs (which hasn’t changed). None of that comes through in my childhood studio portraits. Not even a tiny bit, though I wish it could.

We walk around and I see that the farm is far bigger than it looks. It presents a pull, too, to the visitor, a tug that makes you want to linger and inquire, and peek with curiosity at the seedlings in the soil.

She zips around the kitchen of St. Paul’s Church like a ninja. A ninja with muscled arms. And also a very friendly ninja. She’s making cheesecakes, and cheesecakes in a jar, and mixing, scraping, pouring, baking, cooling, washing. To the untrained eye, it looks like a lot of work is going on.

I really didn’t know what to expect as I drove in her driveway on a rainy April morning. What I found was someone who - while taking a great deal more pride and craftsmanship than HomeSense in creating, say, a wooden tray - is humble, genuine, and kind. Not that you need to be a great person to have a good strong business, but it certainly makes for a better local community.

Recently I photographed three birthday parties in nine days.

One of them was a surprise party. Two of them were 50th parties. Two of them had cats. One of them had two cakes. One of them: salami whips. One of them had a fully consensual boob-grabbing shot that I took in a dark room

When my "Year-in-the-Life" family took their two sons bowling, there were a few predictable glitches. Having an older brother and two parents who are bowling Gods (everyone looks like a pro when you first start bowling) does nothing for one’s ego. Will gave it a valiant effort, then there were some near-tears, then a change in strategy or five. Afterwards, he ate some fries and gave it another honest go. There were double underhand throws, and squat throws, and rotational slams, and anguish and thrill. It really doesn’t matter what the scoreboard ultimately said: the kid persevered, and that’s all anyone needs to know about that day.

While you’re imagining all those other families have more glamorous lives than you, they’re just making dinner and having quiet conversation. They’re tired from a long day at work - just like you - and they, too, are looking to reconnect with loved ones.

So fall for your life. Fall in love with real.

My moral responsibility as a photographer, as I have come to understand it, goes a step farther: I encourage what is true and what is good to shine through without shame. I aim to find your tireless self - the one that wakes up with ten snoozes of the alarm and burns the coffee and raises her voice and mentally checks out from time to time and takes a hot bath when shit seems to be hitting the fan. Contrary to what you might feel, that self is not constantly making blunders and fumbling through life. That is the hardest working self you've got. It's the self that won't quit on you even when you feel like throwing in the towel. That's the self I'm interested in photographing. 

There were wardrobe changes, girls getting ready with lots of hysterical laughter and good vibes, kids being kids (read: jumping off couches and playing pretend shooting games), and even some serious dabbing. There was Bollywood-posing outside by the tree, and delicious food and hot coffee and the inauguration coverage from the previous day completely faded into the background for a couple of hours.