Sometimes making a photograph is less about planning and more about anticipation of a moment.  This was taken about three years ago, when my youngest was four years old.  He fell and scraped his knees while playing outside.  The event itself was not unique, but I was moved to capture this part of childhood–not just his childhood, but the wounds and means of coping that come with any childhood–whether literal or figurative.  So when he ran inside for the Band-Aids, I ran for my camera, then waited for him to come back outside to apply them.

The details in this shot are what make it one of my favorites.  He is preparing to cover his knee scrape with a Band-Aid,  already having taken care of the other one and tossing the packaging to the side.  The wound is just a little one, but he takes comfort in doing something about it, concentrating more on his task than worrying about any pain he may feel.  He has old scrapes, old bruises, and otherwise dirty limbs.  He also sports a few tattoos in varying stages of wear.

While this is a story about Ollie, my rough and tumble kid who collects scars like some people collect stamps, who used to wear this specific hand-me-down jersey all the time, who was and is obsessed with temporary tattoos, and who is an independent do-it-himselfer, it is also about what it is like to be a young child.  It’s about being dotted with dirt, bruises, scrapes, tattoos, scars, and yes, Band-Aids.  It’s also about the marks on our skin that give us material for the tales we spin.  They tell us that we’ve been somewhere and done something.  They can represent tough times and how we cope with them.  The wounds can be raw, healing, or healed–still smarting, hurting less, or giving us experiences about which we can laugh.  They give us something to talk about.  If we were never to take falls, we would have no triumphs, and then we would have no stories to tell.

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