A Vacation Portrait Session

Recently J & D came up to to the Bay Area to visit with friends.  Since they were here from Port Hueneme (Southern California) where D is currently stationed, they were able to take advantage of my military discount (which applies everyday) and have a portrait session done.

With our friend H on makeup and acting as our impromptu stylist, off we went!  You can't tell by these images, but it was REALLY cold!  We were out and about at 9:00 a.m. to make sure they still had the rest of the day to spend with friends.

They were such good subjects and great sports about being cold - especially J out there in that dress!  They looked adorable and I was thrilled with the results of our shoot, which was a first for me for many reasons, including photographing someone in a push-up pose!

I hope you enjoy these images as much as I do - can you feel the love?

Traditions

This is my favorite time of year for so many reasons, but not surprisingly for all of the moments that are created and traditions that are honored.

Mom used to put this ugly turkey out in the fall, but now that I'm an adult and it's one of the few survivors from the fire, I sure do cherish that ugly thing. We had a small family growing up, but we always ended up together, crammed into someone's house and inevitably, we would have a couple of "extras" joining us.  From those who's family was far away, to those who didn't know what a family was, there was always room in our Holidays to welcome them right on in with open arms and a full plate.

Grannie used to have these little birds that clipped into her Christmas tree that I adored.  She had these super-thin ornaments that were hollow on one side and had belonged to her mother. I'll never see those again, but I've found some that are similar and can't wait to get them out of the boxes for my first Christmas in my own home this year.

Grandma Nan makes the most beautiful pies you've ever seen - complete with little leaves baked onto the crusts. More often than not, we ended up at her house for Thanksgiving with all four of us grown women squeezing our butts into her two-butt kitchen. Her Southern roots bleed over into her cooking and let me tell you, that is what love tastes like to me.

My Mother-In-Law sets a stunning table with centerpieces and everything coordinates. One year she even had butter in the shape of a turkey.  You'll never go hungry at her house - we give her a hard time because she always has these appetizers that are so good you forget to save room for dinner!  She is the epitome of the perfect hostess.  By the time everyone leaves for the night, you'd never even know there had been a party at her home.

Grandma Shirley always decorated to the nines for the Holidays - ALL OF THEM.  It's a running joke in the family that she would have her guest bathroom decked out for whichever holiday, from St. Patrick's Day to Halloween.  Everything was coordinated and changed promptly within a few days of the Holiday changing.  She was a real class act. I miss her a lot and I wish she was still here with us on Halloween for Sloppy Joes, Tater Tots and Ambrosia Salad, just like she made for her kids.

My Grandmother-In-Law, Dawna, makes everyone feel at home and welcome.  Even though she's not biologically related to my husband and I, never once I have I felt unwelcome or like an outsider in her presence.  She has the kindest demeanor, one that comes with raising four children of her own, having nine grandchildren (plus five spouses), and now four great grandchildren with one more on the way. When one of us gets married or has a child, she's always the one who gets the "Our First Christmas" ornament with the year.

I just read back through the post and realized there is a common thread: Moms.

All of these ladies have shaped and sculpted my Holidays.  Some of them for my whole life, some for the past 14 years, but all of them significantly.  They taught me what makes moments special. It's about being grateful not just for what you have, but for who you have to share it with.

Preserve the moments. Keep the traditions. Start some new ones. Hug the Moms in your life - new or old. They'll be the ones keeping traditions alive for our kids.

My Mom and I, Veteran's Day 2011

I'd love to hear about some of your traditions.  Leave a comment or drop me a line.

A Place of Passion

I've received  a lot of feedback regarding this humble little blog of mine.  If I'm being honest here (and I endeavor always to be), it's kind of surreal.

I mean, who knew I'd throw this blog out there into cyberspace and people would actually read it? And on purpose? Hmph. It's enough to make me sit and wonder about a lot of things, but specifically about why I blog and who I do it for.

I read a book not too long ago and there was a quote that just stuck with me.  I have read about 20 books since then, but I just can't get it out of my head.  If you're a lady between the ages of 18 and infinity, there's a good chance you've read this book too, but did you notice when your eyes encountered the phrase:

"Raising the ordinary to extraordinary"

I couldn't put it better than E.L. James did in that sentence.  I've considered it over and over again, and it just seems to define what photography has become to me.  

I started blogging as a way to share my photos and the story behind them.  Now that I have an official website, I keep blogging because it's a way to tune the world in to everyday moments that should be preserved and kept forever.

It's become my passion to focus on the details.  Things that others might miss in passing or an element that was dismissed because it didn't seem important. Those are the things I love to photograph.

I don't know how else to explain it except to share that quote from Anastasia Steele.  To be quite honest, I didn't anticipate ever getting far enough that it mattered why I was doing it.  The bottom line is I do it because I like to share more than just images.

I like to share stories.

I like to preserve moments.

Blogging lets me share the stories of the moments I preserve.

It's a no-brainer, really, and I hope my posts continue to be entertaining, thoughtful and informative for years to come.

I'll leave you with a shot that seemed to materialize out of thin air during a recent Hands of Love shoot.  A tenderness and reverence that would've gone bye in the blink of an eye - except *snap* I was there.

All Portraits Are NOT Created Equal

I recently had the pleasure of handling a firearm for the first time. (My Dad swears I shot a .22 when I was a kid, but I honestly have no recollection so I'm starting over.) I went out to the range with some very close friends who also happen to be family. I haven't a clue why it's taken me so long to do this, but holy moly is it FUN!

Like any good Moment Preservationist, I brought my camera along with me. I decided to take a few shots (no pun intended) of J & J while we were there. J was really in his element out here and you could see him instantly relax the second we got out of the truck. I would have thought having a "new shooter" tagging along would have the opposite effect, but no.

At any rate, these are a couple of the images I snagged while we were there. This is what Moment Preservation means to me - this memory is so cool and important I want to keep it forever.

When was the last time you had a portrait done - family or otherwise - that really embodied who you are and what you love? If the answer is "never", then you and I need to talk.










*By the way, this marks my 40th post! I have a hard time sticking with things that I start, so it's kind of a big deal for me!

Nothing But A Memory

We've all felt it ~ sometimes you find yourself at a point where you need to feel grounded. Whether it's returning to our childhood home, or having a particular food that reminds you of days gone by, at one point or another we all seek it out.  I felt that way recently, so I decided to head back to to the home where many of my fond my childhood memories live. I connected my iPod to my car's stereo and played The House That Built Me by Miranda Lambert on repeat the whole drive.  When I arrived, I got out of my car and just stood there for a while, frozen. I couldn't even get my camera out of the trunk for about 10 minutes because I couldn't seem to put one foot in front of the other.

I can count on one hand the times I've come here in the last 2 1/2 years.  Not because I don't miss it, but because it's not the same. In fact, I've spent so little time here that one of the neighbors tried to kick me out like I didn't belong.  After a little explanation of who I was, he decided I belonged and let me on my way.

It was where my parents brought me home from the hospital when I was born. I learned how to pick the right lure, tie my own line, bait the hooks, and cast away right there off the dock.  I learned that when the cobwebs were floating on the breeze in the twilight, you needed to grab your rod and reel and head out to the water.  I learned what peace really sounds like, and what a beautiful sight it is when the little fish jump out of the water after tiny bugs and shimmer in the sunset.

All that's left of my "happy place" is just a bit of melted boat trailers and some artichoke plants.

August 19, 2013, Taken with my iPhone 5. No edits, straight out of the phone.

My Grandmother's house burned down four days after my son was born in January of 2011.  It used to be a 3-Story house and a 2 car garage that my Grannie and Papa built with their own hands in the 1950's. You can see the walkway and the stairs still stand, leading to nowhere.  The firemen had to just let it burn because there were live power lines they couldn't cross. Every family heirloom, all of my Mother & Grandmother's jewelry, every photograph, keepsake and memento collected over the last 60 years is gone, including my Mother's wedding ring, her collection of spaghetti poodles, and her wedding dress.  Not to mention the fact that my Papa's ashes that were on my Grannie's nightstand. (Grannie said he wouldn't have left the house anyway).

This is the only image I have of the damage. I couldn't bring myself to take any more as I stood there with my husband and just...cried.

January 14, 2011 - Taken with my iPhone 4S. No edits, straight from my phone.

It is always a little rough going back, but I hiked up the walkway (you can see it on the left in the first picture, still just like it's always been) to the top of the levee and stared at the boats and the Delta. I decided since there wasn't anything left of the house, I'd head down to the dock and sit there a while.

As I've grown, I've begun to look at things in a different light.  Sitting on the junky old dock that I spent so much time on growing up, looking at the boats floating peacefully in their berths covered in dust and bird crap, I realized that memories have nothing to do with money or luxury.  They have everything to do with time. Here are some images I took with my "big girl camera" that reminded me of parts of my childhood.















If nothing else, take a minute today and connect with a memory - whether it's chasing down the ice cream man for a Rocket Pop, calling a friend you haven't spoken to in a while, or going to a place that holds a special memory for you.  It will brighten your smile a little.

And now you understand why I call myself a "Moment Preservationist". You never know when the photos of those special places and times you have shared will be all you have left of your memories. Cherish them and have copies made. Share them with everyone so if something tragic like this happens to you, copies are out there.