family : my vision

I can’t tell you how many times I arrive for a newborn or family session to find some version of this: Dogs are jumping…Dad is on a call or watching tv…Children are half clothed at best, eating red popsicles on the white sofa…and Mom is stressed. 


I get it: the very idea of family photos makes you want to break out in hives - so much so that you may have opted out last year…and the year before…and a couple more years before that. 
But the thing is, art doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful.


So, I pet the animals and tame the kids with something sans red dye no. 5 and and give Dad a job to do (he just wants to know what to do with his hands 😂) and assure Mom that she can relax - I’ll take it from here. 

Family, in and of itself, is art. Messy and challenging, exciting and liberating, beautiful and shocking, always in progress and never perfect. Just as art is anything the artist decides it is; family is anyone you decide to love, unconditionally. My vision for family photography is to celebrate and showcase each individual, every colorful relationship, and the living family canvas as a whole. 



letting go.

2018:
the year my son’s adoption became legal and 

I began to see my life as ”mum-mum”

beyond one-day-at-a-time, 

which has changed how 

I see 

most everything - 

dear God, thank you;

2018: 

the year I began to run again 

more 

slowly 

than in years past 

with said son and surly dog,

away from inauthenticity,

toward the emotion I’d feared to feel

until now,

into the arms of people who’ve held me -

dear God, thank you;


2018:
the year I sat still,

almost daily with few exceptions,

even on shaky ground -on the floor 

before this altar in my bedroom’s morning light

calling on It to work through me,

in my office during my son’s nap,

savoring a ritual cup of coffee,

in the rooms of recovery…waiting rooms, doctor’s offices, hospitals…

holding the hand of my wife,

breathing - 

dear God, thank you; 


2018:
the year I learned to hang onto the people 

who want the best for me 

without transaction or return,

to hang on to my dreams for a better world,

to hang on to faith in my skills and a Power greater than my own - 

dear God,thank you;


2018:
the year we brought little Lou home and 

held him and 

held him and 

so many of us held him -

trying not to know what we knew:

we would need to let go of him,

to let go of the wish for a different past

to let go of the belief that we know what’s best 

for the future that isn’t promised,

to let go of the trauma that’s kept us

stuck in a cycle of anxiety 

followed by depression 

followed by anxiety 

followed by depression

for generations, 

to let go 

over and over

again -

dear God,thank you; 

I love you.

I’m listening..

here I am…

letting go.


a weekend in cuidad de Mexico

We had just 2 nights available to travel for our anniversary and settled on Mexico City because of its close proximity to DFW and because neither of us had ever been. Standing in the parking garage at Terminal D at 5 in the morning, I decided I didn’t want to carry heavy equipment. I didn’t want to travel without a car seat and 25 lb. baby only to be weighed down by  a heavy camera. I’m in the the thick of family photography and event photography during this season, and my favorite travel camera is being repaired. I didn’t want to chance that a camera I rely upon for my work would be damaged or stolen. Not to mention, my back hurts. Photography is actually hard work. So, I left the camera bag in the trunk and brought a tiny Nikon FX 35mm film camera with a cracked viewfinder and broken lightmeter. It is the epitome of impracticality except that with a 50mm lens, it is so lightweight. So, all of these photos were a roll of the dice. I’ve been staring into the sun daily for about 10 years now, so I kinda know what shutter speed and aperture to use. And the forgiving nature of film makes up for the skill I lack.  I really didn’t know what to expect from the trip, but the city  exceeded my expectations. I wish I’d photographed the food, but that camera just wasn’t up for the task. Instead I ate mindfully - mostly and, occasionally, too much because it was so good and food is pleasure. I read Anne Lamott’s book while I was there and she says, “Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.” Truth. 

Using Format