This is the last image I shot at my friend Lindsay’s wedding on Saturday. Sans tripod, I laid my camera down on top of my car and fired. I can’t decide if the hum of the engine is responsible for this image, or rather, if the whirr of love emanating from the tent just over the hill from where I was parked was strong enough that the whole of the universe shifted, one fraction of the smallest measurement, in celebration of Lindsay and Ben. I like to think it was the latter. That even if my car had been turned off, this image would have turned out exactly the same. Because sometimes a love exists, so perfect, that even the universe takes notice. xo...
an evening with brynn andre
Once upon a time I wanted to be a writer. I still do, and probably always will. I’m a story-teller to the core, and it makes sense that through a series of events – whose purpose was unclear to me at the time – I chose the camera as my paper and people as my pen. Through photography I am able to write stories – to take a collection of moments and string them together to create a perfect semblance of a whole. A story told with emotion, and spirit – and most of all love -without the use of a single word. I love that about photography. So very much. What I also love about this craft is it’s ability to expose my soul – the way it uncovered the things that radiate within me and set my spirit on fire. Life. Love. Beauty. Authenticity. Emotion. People. Most of all,...
The Beauty Collective
It starts before we’re old enough to know what’s happening – the seeds of negative self image are sown long before a woman reaches adolescence. They take root and burrow into the core of our being, gnawing away at us every chance they get. But eventually we reach adulthood and are finally able to take a few steps back and see ourselves for what we are. There comes a time in our lives when we finally see more than just the reflection offered in a mirror – we see the skills we have, the knowledge in the lines of our faces, the laughter in our eyes. We remind ourselves of all that we’ve overcome and accomplished, our successes and triumphs. A list grows long with all the things that make us … remarkably, wonderfully, exactly, perfectly…. us. Yet the gnawing is still there; its voice is audible and clear. Despite...
things I’m afraid to tell you
I saw this post on my darling friend‘s (and web designer extraordinaire!) blog, and couldn’t not join in. Not simply because there are plenty of things I’m afraid to say out loud, but also because this series of posts shows that we’re all human. We all have things we are scared to admit, faces we are scared to show others. It’s what makes us….authentically flawed and perfectly normal. And because that theme ties in so nicely with a little portrait collective I’m working on, I thought airing my own fears would be a perfect place to start. If not now, when? And if not here….where? 1) I use sarcasm and self-deprication as a defense mechanism. Usually because I’m intimidated, shy, or scared. In social situations I become Chandler Bing and use jokes as my crutch..as a way to deal with the fact that I’m horribly uncomfortable and terrified I won’t fit in. 2)...
