I swear I am still sitting in his bedroom nursing him while rocking in the chair…an occasional thud on the wall from rocking too hard at times. I swear I am reading about colic and food allergies/sensitivities and elimination diets. I swear I can smell his newness and my finger is sweating from how long he’s held it while asleep. I swear I’m wrapping him tightly against my body and trying to figure out what my life’s new normal with a fresh new baby looks like in the haze of sleep depravation.
But I am not. Because I am here, writing at my desk and he is playing tow-truck in the basement as happy as a clam. He knows how to get his own water. His own snacks. He talks about anything. He asks to talk to you after a hard moment to let you know that he did not, at all, appreciate your tone of voice. He likes to squish his face and memorize author’s names. He asks if things are gluten, dairy and soy free. He rebels and asks for a taste of goat cheese. He planned every last detail of his birthday party, and made sure I wrote it down on my phone so I didn’t forget. His sister is his best friend and would do anything for her. He knows his full name and the words to his favorite song (My Type by Saint Motel). He is a fresh three year old who is not little at all, but in fact, “really big!”. And I am still a tired mommy trying to figure out what life with a fresh three year old looks like.
All photos are from the days leading up to his birthday and the weekend of his birthday. All images shot on film.
Trying new things can be hard. Never knowing if its going to turn out or not. And being the slight perfectionist that I am, I needed a bit of a push to try a film stock that I knew very little of.
Enter a lovely film group that I am a part of where one of the photographers sent a roll of off-the-beaten-path film from Seattle Film Works. I received a 35mm roll of SFW 200 in the mail and, knowing nothing of this film, I loaded it into my camera…and it stayed there for many weeks. My results were a bit…um. You know, different.
If I ever get my hands on another roll I will try photographing still-life instead of people. I think the colors and casts will lend itself much more interesting in that format – and it somehow looks perpetually underexposed (I rated the roll of 200 at 100). However, the more I look at the photos the more they grow on me. The bit of quirk is winning me over, perhaps.
To continue with the blog circle, and check out the other participants results with this film, head on over to Love Me Simply Photography.
Groggy with extra snuggles in our bed. Extra snuggles with each other. Extra snuggles with a favorite stuffy. While I stumble to make a pot of coffee and their daddy starts on breakfast, the exuberant and bright childhood energy explodes.
These are a few images from a project documenting ourmy days. The everyday, the routine, the monotony. Because when you are living in that everyday, hampster-on-a-wheel-trying-so-hard-to-keep-up, it easy to loose sight of the beauty in it all. Because, really, what the hell could be beautiful about washing the same load of laundry for the second or third time, or seeing the dishes pile up again? How do you see beauty in tripping over toys, vacuuming 2-3 times a day (I swear there are elves whose sole purpose of living is to throw crumbs all over my floor!) and frantically looking for lovies. Where is the beauty in convincing your 5 year old that hair does indeed need to be brushed every day and dreadlocks are not an option while simultaneously cooking your toddler his 3rd breakfast and your coffee is an awkward lukewarm temperature. Show me the beauty in the pile of dishes and dirty counters and cabinets as the aftermath of all those breakfasts and thrice nuked coffee.
But in that chaos is the love. The scattered blankets and pillows in the living room are there because there were kids having crazy fun together. The dirty dishes remind you of the sweet conversations you had while eating together. The messy hands and faces. The explorations and ceaseless curiosity. The muddy paw prints of beloved pets all over the hardwood floor from chasing the kids back into the house. The chaos and dirt and chasing, well, thats you living. And that is beautiful.
2014, in a nutshell, was a year of discovery and transition. In August I returned from a year and a half hiatus (having my little Oliver) to reestablishing my photography business. The seasons were strung together from peek to valley, threaded from moment to moment, expanded by never-ending change, rattled by turmoil and loss and fortified by finding the shimmer of light in the shadows. There were many moments of the daily, the ordinary, the uncertainty, the simple joys, the shadows and the light. There was a season of darkness. There was a season of light. In those seasons I learned that every chapter is worth capturing, remembering and imprinting. I used to only look for the bright light and thought life should be brilliant at all times. However, the luminosity of light never seemed so beautiful until in came from the shadows. There are shadows everywhere and within everyone. And they shouldn’t be ignored for that is where the shine lights the brightest.
Now, instead of insisting on brightness all the time, I quietly and patient wait for light to emerge from the shadows.
Thank you to all my repeating clients – your loyalty and trust in me makes my job so fulfilling. Thank you to new clients for giving me a shot and playing with me. Thank you to most of my clients that become friends – greatest job perk! Thank you for all the amazing referrals that kept me incredibly busy the past 5 months that I have been back, it gives me great hope for 2015 – I know there are tons and tons of options and I appreciate it all and always.
Cheers to twenty fifteen and the upcoming seasons of light and dark. Embrace it all.
