featured love note.

"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."

  • Mary Ann