What's my name?

I constantly am amazed about how quick a photo journey changes course when the subject matter all of a sudden becomes something that was completely unintentional.   Just as in many of my previous posts, I had an idea of what to journal and even went so far as to stage the scene so I could get the shot right.   My original plan was to photo document a cherished artifact in my family that was inadvertently left behind many years ago in my family's possessions: a family bible.   As a kid, I always remember seeing the weathered and beaten leather bound bible, and even reading it many times.   There was a genealogical chart in the middle which I never thought to spend too much time looking at.   When I was a young boy, my "traditional" family had broken apart, causing new families to form with more brothers and sisters.   Moving many times throughout the years, I always packed the bible up and brought it with me, still not paying attention to what was written inside.   Eventually, I began to study the chart, did some research, and traced my ancestry back way before all the handwritten entries by a paternal grandparent were etched out.   I grew up a lot since then and continue to appreciate the lineage that is written out.

 

As far as the subject matter is concerned, it is almost too convenient that this chart and history is located right in the center of this bible.   The reason for it's convenience is that the book right before the chart begins is the Book of Jonah.   I flipped through the brief story and thought that this would most certainly be my picture of the day.   It would be such a great anecdote to say that my name was pulled straight from the pages of this book with all the trappings of having my birth name be that of a sea-faring traveler who had to cement his relationship with God.   If you hear my dad tell the story, he'll say my name came to him from behind a full moon.   Whatever the reasoning, I'm proud of my name and the history behind it, written down in the pages of this family bible by someone who could not bear to see the legacy disappear.