This is a post about me. About being a quitter. About giving up. I wrote the post below last January, and it’s no less true, no less fitting, now than it was then. In fact, it’s even more important, more real, more ME, now. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. “January is a time of reflection for most. I suppose it’s a time of reflection for me, too. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t spent the last two months entrenched in what has happened over the past year, and what I want to happen in the next. It’s consumed me, really. I have made so many lists: goals, to do, budget, more goals, making it happen, workshops, more to do, branding, more goals. Lists, lists everywhere; strung on walls, crumpled in trash cans, scratched into Anthropologie catalogs and Moleskines, on post it notes and fashion spreads. I have big plans for my business....
Archives for December 2012
two thousand twelve.
When I think about this past year, it seems as though five have passed. So much has happened, and yet I still have so much further I’d like to go. I’ve pushed myself remarkably hard this year – to find my voice, to shoot for myself, to be true to my vision and my brand. I’ve branded myself (or at least started to) and I’ve really begun to discover who I am as a photographer, or at least I think I have. This business is tough, I’m not going to pretend otherwise. And it’s extremely trying and at times remarkably arduous. But it’s three thousand percent worth it. The heartaches, the triumphs, the little victories and the setbacks. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Okay, fine, maybe I’d trade the setbacks, but in those moments, when I’m mad and frustrated and just want to throw my hands up, and...
un. deux. trois.
Twelve months (and two days) have passed since Stella’s last birthday, and this year has changed her in such remarkable ways. She is growing into a strong-willed, inquisitive, noisy and cuddly and boisterous and introspective little girl. Three years. It’s been three years since she was born and forever changed my life – and my holiday season. This girl…she’s perfect. She makes me want to pull my hair out and scream while at the same time wanting to scoop her up and snuggle her into infinity. It’s been a blessing being her mom, and I am so honored to watch her grow. Even if it is all too quickly. To Stella, so as to remember exactly right now: The last three years have been some of the best of my life. You are an amazing child. My world would not be the same without you (or your will and zest...
playing mario in basements (and other thoughts about childhood)
Childhood is a magical time; Free and effortless. It moves across the pages of our lives the way a summer storm moves across the plains – beautiful and remarkable and loud and fast. It leaves us changed. New. But childhood can be trying, too. We’re learning so much about ourselves, about the world, our brains growing and absorbing at an alarming rate. Our bodies changing and feeling and hurting and yearning. When I was a young girl life was much simpler than it is now, an admission that makes me sound much older than I actually am. But it’s true, nonetheless. My summers were spent with cousnins and friends. Chasing dreams in fields of long grass, and jumping into cold, clear lakes, bobbing my head up in secret hideouts under the docks and rafts, fish biting my toes. I fought dragons and played Mario Brothers in basements during summer storms,...