Congrats Ashley and Brendan!

Got the chance to shoot this lovely wedding with Blaine and Bethany Franger, wedding photography virtuosos (no, really, you should check out their website just to be inspired). Sometimes it is refreshing to be the third wheel, the second-second shooter, the following-people-around-like-the-paparazzi-mostly-in-silence photographer.  It comes with little stress and the chance to learn from the way other photographer’s function.  Plus, you get to go to the top of Mt. Hood on a perfectly clear day and look really graceful try not to bury yourself waste deep in powder as you capture the the blue sky and the white of a gorgeous wedding dress.

I have a friend who has confessed to practicing the art of the canned laugh.  At first I thought it was the most disingenuous thing to do – laugh at a joke, which you think isn’t all that funny – but I quickly realized, after being around him in group settings, that his honed skill could put even the most self-conscious person at ease (maybe this is why we became good friends?).

Recently, Evelyn has been asking me to laugh and requiring my immediate obedience with the belliest laugh I could possibly muster.  At first I thought it such an odd request.  I started reflecting on my emotional status.  Am I stressed?  Do I walk around with a frown or a focused look?  Does she think I am angry about something and needs me to laugh to make her feel comfortable again?  But then I realized it wasn’t happening when I was deep in thought or annoyed.  It was during times of silly conversation with her around the dinner table or when she was playing dress up.  My laughter was somehow empowering her to continue in her play.

I am both joyful and saddened by this understanding.  I am mourning the fact that she is responding to a social reality that what other people think and say about us can determine who we become.  Can I just skip over the day that another person points and laughs at her and says she looks silly?  Do they sell “Protect Your Child from All Pain” Bubbles at Target?  Even if they did, I am resolved not to do that to her.

But, I am joyful that she is, at some small level, recognizing the power of laughter.  I think I DO want to teach her the art of canned laughter.  I never thought I would be saying that.  But seriously, if she can learn to laugh, not take herself too seriously, put others at ease and help them to feel confident, shouldn’t I encourage that?  I know it sounds like I want to make her pretend she is someone she is not, but that is not what I mean at all.  I want to teach her to find reasons to laugh, even when it is hard or downright near impossible.  Perhaps then, I can’t call that kind of laughter truly canned.  I guess it is more like practiced laughter.  This is still a developing thought, but I will need to develop it more another day. The child awakes from her slumber!

I will leave you with this perfectly executed pout face…

Photo by www.blaineandbethany.com Photo by www.blaineandbethany.com Photo by www.blaineandbethany.com Photo by www.blaineandbethany.com

Is it just  me, or has this new year brought with it an overwhelming desire to start doing the things you feel you were made to do.    Picture an empty room with a bouncy ball flung wildly, ricocheting endlessly from point to point.  That is what my insides have felt… not with turmoil, but excitement.  I feel on the cusp of letting go of all that I feel I should be, and running hard after what I know I am.  Bear with me.  I can become simultaneously long-winded and uber deep (or seemingly just weird).  Hopefully you’ll track with me!

Even before the birth of my first child, I considered becoming a birthing coach, a doula.  When I began reading about the birthing process, something clicked for me.  I would be happy to divulge more, but, for fear that I would lose what readership I already have, suffice it to say this:  I get dewy eyed, every time I read this quote, “We have a secret in our culture and it’s not that birth is painful, it’s that women are strong” -Laura Stavoe Harm

So, here we are at the end of this long-winded entry, and you have yourself wondering how any of this pertains to photography and where in the world is that giveaway already!  Last night, as I listened to Joanna’s birth story and thought, “Oh, I forgot about that!” over and over, I was very grateful that a few key people took the time to tell and help me retell that story in such detail.  One such person, was a dear friend and all-star doula who was present at Evelyn’s birth.  She came to visit and meet Joanna, since she couldn’t be there for her birth, and recorded me retelling the story.  Another friend is an amazing photographer, Bethany, who came for my labor and quietly documented the moments in frame-by-frame detail.  I love both retellings.

I now know there is a story that I am utterly passionate about telling.  Would you consider letting me tell the story of your upcoming birth, in a similar way my friend’s have?  Comment below and be entered in a drawing to receive a complimentary composition of your child’s Birth Story (within 100 miles).  It will include photos from the labor/birth (as much or as little as you feel comfortable with) and an audio retelling.

Also, anyone who mentions this post when they book a Birth Story or Newborn session will receive 20% off!

This is a reminder of what it means to be a “photographer.”

This, also, could be a dastardly business move.

However, I am going to reveal my dark secret.  I feel a bit like Eve; I’ve taken a bite out of the fruit of professional photography and looked down to see that my camera bag is naked.  Now, this isn’t a flawless metaphor, because I really have known all along about this nakedness.  How could I miss it?  Somewhere, on the stately websites of most professional photographers is a list.  You may have seen such lists.  They usually begin with one of the two most sacred of photographic words, Nikon or Canon.  From that point on the list boasts of high quality, name brand, premium glass, and so on and so on.

Do I sound jealous?  Yes.  Because sometimes I really am jealous of all that bling. It has taken me years to gather the items in my bag and a peak at my current list of gear would give anyone who knows a thing or two about technology cause to doubt my tech choices. Here is what’s in my bag:

Canon 40D

Canon 50mm f1.4

Canon 17-40mm f1.4

Canon 24-85mm f3.5-4.5

That’s it.  No frills.  I have some great gear, but not quite what the tech savvy would deem necessary for the task (that Canon 40D sticks out like a sore thumb).  But I know that gear by heart.  I care about all the details and strive, with every click of the shutter, to make the most beautiful photograph I can… learning all the while how to become better skilled with what I have (which usually happens through the humbling task of receiving critique from both myself and others, something I always want to be good at).

So, as Canon keeps rolling out bigger/better gear, I feel the intense recruitment from two photographic camps.  One camp has all the latest “weaponry” and one has all the “skill.”  And in reality, I don’t want to belong to either.  Yes, I am going to upgrade as needed and as I am able… it would be just plain silly not to… but I am also going to repeat the mantra, “My camera doesn’t take pictures, I do.”

So, in an attempt to reclaim what I have lost, I am posting an old poem and the image that inspired it.  I hope this will rekindle my passion and help me once again begin to put words, not just photos and images, onto paper.

Ahem…

(Few artist have had such a lasting impact on me like VanGogh.  Everyone knows Starry Night… it is unmistakable, but I find myself drawn to his more unknown works and especially to his writting in Dear Theo.)