I was told, once, that there was a certain sweetness to my images. It was at the start of this entrepreneurial journey, when I was still in school, and the words were uttered during a portfolio review by a gifted photographer whose eye is well trained and whose opinion mattered very much to me as a novice in his field. I was surprised by his comment at first, but soon thereafter, pleased; because although I’d never said as much aloud, sweetness is really what I’m after. It’s a quality I didn’t realize, then, was organic to my style as a photographer. With each photograph, I set out to create a beautiful mix of the fleeting and the stylized — a glimpse of your precious story without the clutter of everyday life. My hope is to give you the space to simply be present, while I endeavor to create something for you that is intimate and real and meaningful.
Truth: I am exhausted. Running entirely on toddler high fives and iced lattes and sheer adrenaline – the high that comes with creative exertion. I used to be one of those people who fell asleep within ninety seconds of my head hitting the pillow. Then, within the course of a dizzyingly short time span, I became a business owner in a creative industry, and the mama of a precious and precocious little boy. And all of a sudden, I find myself lying awake at night – not for lack of fatigue – but because my mind is on overdrive. All. the. time. Goals and to-do lists swirl around in my subconscious as I try desperately to coax my mind into dreamland: how do I grow the wedding side of my business? How do I market myself effectively to my ideal clients? How do I keep up in this field of round-the-clock creatives if I’m only able to work when my son is sleeping (i.e., next-to-never)?
I remember what it felt like, those last few days before baby arrived. Full of joyful anticipation for what was to come, offset by a bit of nostalgia for the last precious moments of our familiar life together as two. It occurs to me now, as I look through these images of another family in waiting, that the days leading up to number two must be infinitely more emotional. Sure, you’ve done it before, you have all the tools — but your first child is your world. Fills you, undeniably and beautifully, to the very brim. So how do you learn to share your love / energy / time / patience? To not feel guilty for bringing a new all-consuming love into the picture?
We blinked and a year went by. A year. A beautiful, exhausting, perfect whirlwind of a year. And if we were taken with you then, in that first moment, we’re completely overcome now. Smitten. Hooked. Wrapped around your tiny little finger.
In twelve months, we’ve watched you grow into a charming, silly, expressive, joyful, curious, independent little boy. You have this way about you…so full of vivacity, so much light. You wander and wonder with reckless abandon and share your delight with the world unselfishly.
Okay, listen. I’ll admit it: I’ve been known to use the word delicious on more than one occasion when describing a baby. Or yummy, or edible. Scrumptious, even. And I’ve nibbled on more than my fair share of baby thighs, especially now that I have a pair crawling around my own home. Given how much I love eating good food, one should really consider it a compliment of the highest order if I comment on the delectable quality of your baby’s rolls. Besides, can’t you see how it might be easy to develop a bit of a baby addiction problem when you’re photographing these soft, squishy, beautiful little creatures day in and day out?