I remember when I first started on this journey of taking other peoples pictures.
I remember that what I fell in love with was not photography.
It wasn’t the camera that made me smile.
It wasn’t the composition, necessarily, that gave me goosebumps.
It wasn’t even the idea that I was making a way for people to remember or even preserve the way they looked.
What made my heart leap out of my chest, on the other hand, was the moment when was able to capture the personality of a person – or the dynamics of a family, or the the emotion felt in a touch.
I fell in love with taking pictures when I was able to allow people the opportunity to feel something.
To me, something was good . . . something was special . . . seomthing was art when it was able to speak to my soul.
If I could look at a picture of a newborn baby and it made me feel tenderness; it made me feel the softness of her skin; or it made me be able to smell innocence – THAT is when I my job became complete.
If I was able to look at a picture of two people and feel their excitement; know their anticipation; experience their love . . . I wanted to be able to offer people more than just a memory, but I wanted to offer them a way to look back and to remember the way they felt at the time. I wanted to capture moments and stories and emotions.
I remember when I first started on this journey of taking other peoples pictures, I thought that could only happen where people felt safe.
I thought people could only feel safe in a neutral environment – a school, a park, a back alley (that was a joke . . . but not really.) I thought people could only feel safe in their own homes.
I remember when I first started on this journey of taking other peoples pictures, I SWORE I would never be a studio photographer.
And this is why . . . .
That too was a joke. (Man, I’m funny today!)
Anyway, I am learning, that there is a time and place for everything.
God has been so so good to me.
I have learned so much.
I now own a beautiful studio, and I am enjoying it very much.
I still would prefer to be outdoors.
I still would much rather be in my clients homes.
I have learned though, that that is not what makes beautiful pictures.
Images are made and memories are created when people trust one another.
It takes a moment for a child to warm up, and when they do . . . .
. . . a picture is taken, and a memory saved, and joy is felt.
It doesn’t always matter where the image is taken, only that it is a safe place that that little boys feel safe enough to let you pet their horse and share their smile with you.
It doesn’t always matter where the image is taken, so long as when you look back at the picture, you remember how that sweet baby smelled,
how soft her skin felt,
how tiny her fingers were,
how her head cradled in your hands.
It doesn’t always matter where the images is taken, so long as when you look back at it, you remember what it felt like when you were her mother . . . or her father.. . or her big brother.