You may have noticed that I’ve been a little screen shy lately. The blog has been quiet and my presence on social media has been scarce. It hasn’t been purposeful — there’s so much to I want to share, so many projects I want to undertake. But sometimes, the behind-the-scenes, the technical, the administrative…those things take over. Owning a business isn’t as easy as some out there make it look, and as much as I hate to admit it, I sometimes feel rather resentful of those whose damn-near-perfect online personalities represent only the polished, sexy side of entrepreneurship. Because, guys, there’s a lot of sludge that goes along with this profession, too. There’s tax code to interpret, expenses to track, monitors to properly calibrate, broken gear to fix (and re-fix), streamlining processes to learn, a brand to curate and grow – and the moment you think you’ve got it under control, that you can sit back and let it all run itself – you’re thrown some sort of curveball that sets you back for weeks.
I have a special place in my heart for this sweet little nugget, who I’ve photographed since birth (see her newborn photos here). Gabrielle was six months old at the time of this session, and was nothing but beautiful baby squish, blue eyes, and lashes. And OH – that GLOW…can you believe the light in her parents’ bedroom? Between that ethereal light and the beautiful pintuck headboard, she looks like she’s sitting amongst the clouds. I mean, come on: how could I not be totally taken?
It rained here last night. A quiet, almost imperceptible rain, the kind one might believe to have dreamt up if not for having smelled its faint fragrance in the air the next morning. It was one of the gentler things I’ve encountered in a long time, certainly more so than the roaring mopeds and the crash of the surf on the Mediterranean. It reminded me more of my baby’s breath as he sleeps: sometimes so still I may lean closer just to ensure it remains constant. Its fragility was sweet and reassuring, a beautiful reminder to stop and listen — that that which is loudest is very rarely the most important.
Five months of juggling motherhood and entrepreneurship has taught me a lot of things, not the least of which is that there will be days when not a thing gets crossed off my professional checklist. Today has felt like one of those days—although if that was actually the case, this blog post would, admittedly, not exist. Some days, my little love will bounce away in his favorite chair and babble for the sake of hearing his own voice; he’ll nap on schedule and beam at me when we make eye contact. Other days, he’ll refuse to nap, demand that I hold him (while standing and bouncing) all day long, and cry with all of his might if I attempt to do otherwise. It’s days like this—when the balancing act seems completely untenable—that I must remind myself to breathe in, breathe out, and know how lucky I am to have the flexibility I do.
I feel no shame in admitting it: I envy the ability of West Coast photographers to create sun-filled, dreamy images of 70-degree weddings and family sessions during what for us is the obnoxiously frigid dead of winter. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the winter light on the East Coast — it is gorgeous and unparalleled — I just find it hard to forget that in order to capture it, we come dangerously close to freezing off our extremities, every time.