When my dad died , my mom asked me if there was anything I wanted of his. I wandered around their apartment, looking at things. Yes, it would be nice to have some little memento, but what? Everything just seemed like empty objects, like I would get it home and it would simply add to the clutter. But this weekend, as I slid a pan of banana bread batter into the over, I realized I already have something to remember him by: this 1950's darkroom timer. My dad and I started developing photos together when I was in high school. He and my mom had done it quite a bit, years earlier. So, he had all the equipment and he taught me how to do it. Our photography, and therefore our printmaking, covered a range of subjects. For example, we had quite a few pets, who were always up for having their pictures taken. Or I sometimes went around town and staged wacky photo shoots with my friends. And there was always the option of choosing from the boxes and boxes of negatives taken before I was