Shots and musings from San Diego based photographer, David Phillipich



Yesterday was Father’s Day, a day when sons and daughters take their dads to the ball game, have a nice cookout in the backyard and give cards and gifts expressing their appreciation for all that dad’s do.  I couldn’t be with my dad this father’s day weekend, but I want him to know that I, too, appreciate all he’s done and continues to do for me, the strange middle son.

It’s not easy to describe my dad, which I think is a great quality in and of itself.  He’s quiet, witty, generally impatient, annoyingly intelligent and incredibly kind.  He gives and gives and takes nothing in return.  He answers the puzzles on “Wheel of Fortune” way too early.  He stuffs his pockets full of dog treats so that all the puppy friends along Gardenview Drive can enjoy a treat with our dogs.  While driving to church, he’ll curse under his breath at the woman who’s driving too slow.  He sacrifices his time, his health and his sanity on a daily basis, continuing to put off retirement so that his family can travel to places like Italy.  He leaves notes on the kitchen counter every morning, letting my mom know which dogs pooped and that he loves her.

Like most times in my life, I’m a day late (and always a dollar short).  But I wanted to share some photos of my mom and dad and my brother John and his girlfriend, Jess, from our trip for this Father’s Day because I know that buildings and light and shadows and Gondola Guys are cool and serve as great reminders of things seen during a trip, but what’s really important is who you saw it with.  I’m so lucky to be a part of my family and so thankful for their support.  Love you, Dad.



Genevieve Grace Phillipich

Early in the morning on October 11th my older brother Adam and his beautiful wife, Stacy, had their first child.  We were all kind of pulling for a 10/10/10 birth date, but I’m glad she waited

“Genevieve” was my grandmother’s name, so when Adam introduced her to the family in the emergency room it gave tear-filled eyes another reason to overflow.  I had to ask him where “Grace” came from.  “…it was a faith-related choice with some practical and family-related influence as well.  And scene.”

I didn’t think it’d be as hard as it was to be halfway across the country when little Gen was born.  I was a giggling, blubbering mess when my little brother sent me the camera-phone picture of Baby G in Mama P’s arms.  It got worse when I walked into Adam and Stacy’s house in Bloomington Thursday afternoon, having just completed the 18 hour drive.  It wasn’t so much to surprise them; my family all but assumed I’d show up at some point, but I just couldn’t handle waiting until Thanksgiving to meet my little niece.  She was worth the drive.  As you’ll see, pretty much the cutest lil’ infant that’s ever been born.  And I’ll always be thankful to her for arriving when she did, allowing me to spend Saturday night in Madison (and watch our Badger squad dominate #1 OSU) before finishing the drive back on Sunday.

Writing too much.  We have baby pictures to get to!  Several thousand shots of GGP to follow in the next twenty-plus years…