Noel Spirandelli

I started this project by documenting combat training exercises. It was chaotic and deafening with all the gunfire and yelled commands. And once the exercises have ended, the explosive noise is replaced with the ambient sounds of swirling sands and random distant doors closing from the desert wind gusts. Range 220 becomes a ghost town once again. I find myself as an observer in this paradox.

🔎WARNING🔍

Today is my father’s birthday. For the past 4 years, my dad has been struggling with Parkinson’s. My mom now does mostly everything for my dad. My dad is very old school—never asked anyone for help or sympathy and he’s always kept his feeling to himself. Growing up in San Francisco I had a hard time relating to him. We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things but he has always been my number one supporter in my creativity. It was actually my dad who got me into photography. His Nikon F camera handed down. The same one he used as a military reporter in the Korean War. My dad built a darkroom in an old military cottage that was given to SF residents back in the day. It was mostly filled with cobwebs but it was there that I picked up something I felt my dad had never stopped having a deep passion for. I always struggled to get to know my dad. He came from a different time. His story is remarkable. His mother was the youngest of her 4 sisters and was taken from Philadelphia by her dad at around 5 years old to forcefully live with him in Paris. Her father became a successful businessman owning a company that built commercial refrigerators to then see it all taken away in WWII. It was the factory my great grandfather had built that my father and grandmother had to live on the top floor and rooftop while it was occupied by the N**i Germans. They could not show their faces at all during the occupation. Meanwhile her husband was still fighting in the war. I would hear how he traveled only at night by bicycle. These stories bewildered me because it’s so far removed from my upbringing. I thank my father and mom so much for giving our family all our opportunities and strength. Much love dad

Finally got around to sharing our newest lil guy, Indy Mars Spirandelli. He was born in the early morning of 7/11 at 12:38 am. Thi was a week and a half overdue. Thi was amazingly calm and we were our silly selves throughout. Our experience was nothing like our first—no driving through red lights or losing my s**t while Thi bled at the hospital waiting area. We look back and laugh and feel so much older. I mean “experienced”. Indy has now been home with us for almost a full week.. Atlas has been a fantastic big brother. He says things like “Ohh so cute!” and kisses him on the head. We wonder how long that will last. We’re truly cherishing every moment while half awake.😴 @ Alta Bates Summit Medical Center