For the last 5 years, my world became smaller while I quietly stepped away from dedicating my time to my business. The airport display and a couple of artist projects have fed my creativity, but my focus was taking care of my aging parents. We have such a short time with family. No matter how long I had with them, it still seems like their lives were too short.
Last year before saying goodbye to my dad, it was important to spend as much time as possible with him. Every day I would go see him; we went for walks, talked about things we did years ago, and went for drives when the weather was nice.
Those times are meaningful and there is no regret in the time spent. Even when I pushed off tasks the knowledge that time was limited guided me.
Over the years, I listened as clients told me they wished they had appreciated their parents more while they were still alive. When I spent time with my dad, I made sure to let him know I took the lessons he taught me to heart, and that I admired the example of honesty he set.
Today, when I look at the last portraits of my parents, they impact me differently than when I created them. Clients often tell me how much a portrait of their own family means to them, a sentiment I share.
As I move forward in the next phase of my business, I’m keeping a focus on creating imagery that will speak to those who see it, to honor those no longer with us, and to be appreciated by those still here.
Celebrating 2026, a year of possibilities.
Looking Ahead
We just finished a massive maintenance remodel at the studio. Because of the damage done by the heavy lifts, ladders, scaffolds, etc. the landscape was damaged. It was time for an update anyway. Here is a view from several years ago before the damage.
Now we are looking forward to new sod, flagstone walkways, and larger flower beds. These improvements put us in a perfect spot to offer more opportunities for spring outdoor portraits!
To celebrate the new landscaping, the first seven families to call and schedule for April will receive a free session ($500 value).
Let’s be friends We want to get social with you.
Scalloped Corn Supreme
By Helen Cansler
Sometimes I stare at my collection of recipe books and wonder what I’m going to make for dinner. I often come back to this dish— it’s simple, and a favorite of my family. I always make it from memory. Since I’m a dump cook, I put in what I think the amount should be, and taste test until I’m satisfied with the result.
For you, I went back to the original recipe. As I searched my cookbook, I tried to remember when I first made it. The answer seemed too long ago, I thought to myself, had it really been 40 years? I must have just been a child.
So from my collection to yours, here’s a timeless classic that will serve you for years to come.
2 1/2 cups cream corn
1 cup milk
1 egg beaten
1 1/2 cups Pepperidge Farm Bread
Crumbs
1/4 cup finely diced onion
1/4 cup diced red pepper
4 tablespoons butter
Salt and white pepper to taste
Heat corn and milk. Gradually stir in egg. Add onion, red pepper, salt, white pepper, 1 cup of breadcrumbs and 2 tablespoons of butter to pot. Mix well. Pour into greased 8 inch square or round casserole dish.
Melt the rest of the butter and pour over the remaining crumbs. Sprinkle buttered crumbs over corn. Bake in 350 degree oven for 20 minutes.
Serves 6-8.
Note: Sydney says all casseroles need cheese, so when I make this I always put some kind of grated cheese in as well.
IT’S NOT THE DAYS WE REMEMBER
It’s the moments that matter.
Why I have been a Cansler portrait customer for 26 years. — Joan Sullivan
“We all have those “professional” photos that capture us or our children at various stages of their life. But what is lacking in those photos is personality. Too often they cannot capture anything more than a momentary image of what people look like.
I met Brad when I wanted to have a portrait of my three sons that captured their personality, instead of just what they looked like. They were rapidly becoming adults, men who would be leaving home soon. Brad was able to capture my sons as I wanted to remember them.
The portrait I chose then and all the portraits that he has done since aren’t just pictures. They are visual representations of memories—beautiful portraits that hold cherished memories of children and now grandchildren. When I see the portraits in my home those precious moments come to life and remind me of the cherished blessing of my family.”
The Backstory...
I wasn’t raised in a family that documented life. I have only two decent photographs from my childhood— one taken when I was six months old and another from a department store studio when I was older.
I bought my first serious camera in 1974. I enjoyed photographing scenery on trips, but I never imagined photography as a profession. That changed slowly—and clumsily. After my wife and I made the mistake of having a friend photograph our wedding, others began asking me to photograph theirs. The results were… not good. Eventually I told my wife that if people were going to keep asking, we needed to either stop entirely or learn how to do it properly.
A Psalm of Life
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day.
I’ve never been comfortable being mediocre.
That decision led us to a workshop in Atlanta—our first real glimpse into what photography could be. We discovered that portraits could be intentional, expressive, and meaningful—and that people valued work created with intention. We studied constantly. Film was expensive, so we practiced with video, learning to see light, understand mood, and recognize how subtle changes could alter the way a person was perceived.
By 1991, I committed to portrait photography full time. The leap was exhilarating and terrifying. Overnight, I went from a predictable salary to real risk and responsibility. There were moments when paying the bills felt uncertain.
Over the years, I’ve made plenty of mistakes, and learned more lessons than I can count. But today I’m proudest of the people who trusted me with capturing their memories. Today, I photograph second-generation clients—new parents whose own portraits I created when they were babies.
What began as a man with a camera became a life spent learning how to really see people—and why preserving who they are matters.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act,— act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o’erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o’er life’s solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.
850 Vine Street Chattanooga, TN 37403 (423) 756-2681
