Day in the life and birth sessions are quite possibly two of the most important sessions to me. I know they are the ones that most of us are least likely to invest in because it is well, more of an investment. But, to me, these two things are what I want to remember and will forever hold sacred. I want to remember and hold tight the first time I held him in my arms, as well as the day to day rhythms we found ourselves swept up in once he grew to be a crazy toddler. I know what you're thinking, "My house is a wreck and I feel like I'm barely holding on some days...what is she going to capture...me in my pi's...no thanks" or for births "Do I really want someone else in the room? What exactly is she going to take pictures of!?!" First of all, there is beauty in all of our lives. Sometimes it's so overwhelming that we almost miss the gentle beauty of it. That's where I come in. I can see it even when you can't. Also, I've shot in tiny homes and huge homes. The way I shoot blurs out the mess...or I just move it...unless it adds to the beauty. PJ's are perfect...but I won't be upset if you want to wear makeup and put on something you feel great in. For births, I try to stay back as much as possible. I don't use a flash because I never ever want to disturb. Nothing is posed. And all of the angles are very tasteful and I do not take a picture of anything you wouldn't be comfortable with. Trust me. I would never take anything away from your special moment and the pictures would only be seen by whomever you wanted. Last Spring I did a Day in the Life session with one of my favorite families. They have been coming to me for many many years now. I love that we have become friends and she has helped me so much through my early momma struggles. She recently sent a testimonial my way and it absolutely brought me to tears. Here's what my friend had to say about her beautiful, rainy day, day in the life session.
On most days and to most people, the images that Priscilla captured are just photographs. Beautiful, well-framed photographs. They show my children's soft skin and big eyes, my husband's stubble and smile lines, and my hands which have become my mother's hands. They are treasured images of the funny little artifacts which make up our lives: rain boots, plastic giraffes, and the chipped pitcher for the milk on the breakfast table. Naturally, we enjoy these images now ("Look, Mommy! Priscilla took a picture of our puddle. When do you think it will rain again? Our puddle will come back, won't it?"). Surely, we will enjoy them more in the future when our paths diverge from under the single roof of our family home. These oh-so-long little days will not last, and I will think, "Here is one among many, but what a magnificent day it was!"
On other days and to me, this collection is something else entirely. These photographs were taken on a day in a season when I was feeling broken. As the session grew closer, I was less certain, nervous even, about inviting a camera into our home to capture any of it, but I am so glad that we did. So much was revealed by the unguarded lens of Priscilla's camera and the fearless editing that she accomplished with her keen eye and her warm heart. She stripped away any pretense and the part where we were, in my mind, just barely holding on. She left what we are. Here are the quiet places at the heart of our home and the gentle rhythms which are the source of our well-being. Because of the nature of the day and her time with us, they are not fantasy, even though sometimes I think they must be. Since Priscilla does not bear the burdens of our hang-ups and our history, good and bad, the images are faithful. Some are brutal. Most are kind -- kinder than I ever am to myself as a wife or a mother. Can that love be real? Can it be mine? Am I worthy of it? When I told Priscilla that in an email, she wrote back to me almost immediately: "I see you. I really see you. And it is. And you are."
It is that simple. It is. I am. We are. Every one of us.
Peace and so much love,