my brother's big fat greek John Lennon sandals

Was just having breakfast on the deck, watching the water, when my mom came out and noticed that some of the split rail fence had been replaced. 'You wouldn't believe how the wood wears down here', she said. 'They've already replaced this deck once already.' That's what I love about it, I said. The way it gets old and worn. It's beautiful. 'Just like us,' she said, 'getting old and weathered and worn.'

I've been shooting my feet ever since I first picked up a camera. It's an ongoing, self indulgent, self portrait series. In this shot, for example, the scrapes on my knuckles are from Scarlett, my niece, kind of dragging me under in the deep end (it's a good 25 feet: I have no idea how the scrapes happened on the top). I've since lost more gold nail varnish.

My brother kept telling us - or trying to tell us - about how he bought these handmade leather sandals on tour recently, in Greece, and they're the SAME SANDALS JOHN LENNON WORE. Not exactly the same ones.. he was telling us about this amazing man he met, MELISSINO, a poet and artist and sandal maker, who made and still makes sandals to order for everyone from Jackie Kennedy to the Prince of Wales. These are the style John Lennon loved.

It seemed every time my brother tried to tell us about his sandals, something happened - a child ran in, or my mom said something.. I know he wanted to say more. I love the line from To Kill a Mockingbird, when Atticus Finch told Scout about only being able to know a man when you try walking in his shoes. Just before my brother jumped in the car to bring Scarlett to day camp, I tried imagining walking in his.