Sandstorms

It's strange to see something you've never seen before.  Most of us have been around long enough that we have experienced a lot of this planet.  Sure, there are many places I have never been before.  Something I'm slowly but surely rectifying.  But it is rare for me to think, "Huh, I've NEVER seen this." 

About a week ago I experienced my first full blown sandstorm.  We're talking zero visibility, lightening, thunder, and high winds.  It was awe inspiring and beautiful and terrible all at once.  

It safe to say that I love moody scenery.  I love the drama and the unusual nature of it.  I love fog.  How it envelopes you.  Consumes you.  This had the same mystery to it but was harsher.  The sand danced and shifted until you were unsure if it would come in blankets or waves.  Or would it be completely gone in half a mile.  There was also just a sheer force to it.  While fog creeps, sand dares you to come out and face it. 

I was itching to have a model with me.  Some woman in a long flowing dress.  Some brave soul to go out and be daring and play.  However, we were just rolling through.  It's on my shot list though and I feel privileged to be able to mark something off my list that I hadn't ever seen or experienced before.

Knight Family

While visiting in Los Alamos I had the awesome opportunity to photograph this great family!  They are seriously some of the sweetest people we have met.  They took us in, they entertained our 1 year old, they fed us amazing food, took us rock climbing...seriously the list of awesomeness just goes on and on.  We headed out one night during the week to grab some family photos before a big rain storm hit.  These cliffs are right down the street from their house!!  How amazing is that?  I could go on and on.  But for now, here's the Knight Family.

Facing Your Fears

I am not a great lover of heights.  I don't mind them but I don't go out of my way to find them.  Just like snakes.  So when Zach's cousin said she wanted to take us rock climbing I was a little skeptical.  And by skeptical I mean nauseous. (For more on our visit to Los Alamos check out here!)

I am a great believer in facing you fears.  I don't like for fear to have control over me.  Period.  I don't like for it to dictate what I do or don't do.  Honestly, I was a feeling a little ashamed at how nervous I was about doing this.  I've been sky diving!  I've jumped off bridges!  Why would climbing a rock freak me out?  When I got down deep to it is was because after having a baby I feel like I have lost part of my athletic self--my daredevil self.  I was worried I physically would embarrass myself.  I was worried that I was being a bad mother by taking a risk.  Worry is just fear whispering to you. 

Lucky for me Zach's cousin Christie is a badass.  She's a mother of five, survivor, and rock climbing instructor.  If she could do it, I had to at least try it.  And I am so glad I did.

The truth is that by the end of the day Zach and I both had fallen a little in love with rock climbing.  For him, I believe it was figuring out the puzzle of where to go next, keeping your mind focused, and being outside.  For me it was facing that fear each moment, being in such beauty, and trusting yourself to make it happen. 

In my experience it always pays off to face your fears.  Whether that is fear of change, fear of loss, fear of heights, snakes, spiders, infestations, whales, or the fear of being alone.  We all have one that makes a nest inside our heart and minds.  Take that fear out, set it on fire, and go live.

Motherhood

Being a Mom is hard.  People say that to you when you become pregnant.  You believe it but you don't fully understand.  Women will talk about the pains of childbirth, the early sleepless nights, the terrible twos, teething, sickness, fatigue.  They will share their stories.  Which we all need. We need these stores.  We NEED to talk about all of this.  We rarely talk about ourselves though.  We rarely discuss the loneliness, the guilt, the boredom, or even the yearning for a previous life.

I wasn't in love with my daughter.  Not at first.  Everyone tells you that when a baby is born it will change your life.  That you can never imagine loving something more.  I cried big hot tears when they first put her on my chest.  Tears of relief and exhaustion.  I knew that she was mine.  That I wanted to protect her, care for her, and do what was best for her.  But I also didn't know her.  Our love affair was a slow one.  Getting to know each other.  Her revealing her brilliant shining personality one small moment at a time.  And then one day there it was.  That unimaginable love.  The kind that brings tears back when I think of anything happening to her.  I had a lot of guilt at first about not being bonded with her.  People asked if I just couldn't get enough of her.  If I just wanted her with me all the time.  Nope.  I needed space.  I needed to be me without being a Mom. 

These days its hard to find space in a small camper with a one year old.  She sleeps in the same room as us.  She cries, she snores, she coos--she wakes up really damn early.  As a Mom, Photographer, Navigator, Wife, and Researcher I'm still trying to find the balance in myself. And we need to talk about that.  There are days I just want to be one thing.  I just want to be a photographer that day.  Or I just want to be a tourist.  Or I just want to be a lover.  It is easy to get overwhelmed by all the roles and demands.  To pine for a simpler time instead of being present in this whirlwind.  Right now there are no babysitters.  All of my roles are full on all the time and I would be lying if I said it wasn't exhausting. 

But its also beautiful.  There is a lot of living in my life right now.  I get to experience a beautiful world that I shamefully haven't seen before.  I get to roam streets and woods and beaches and swamps.  I wash our daughter under the full moon.  I sing her to sleep amidst the background of crickets, tree frogs, and cicadas.  I read.  I photograph what is before me.  I talk about what is whispering to my soul.  I tell myself the truths I need to know.  It's okay to be overwhelmed.  Live here now.  You are enough.

Magic

Let's talk about magic for a minute.  Not the Hogwarts magic (although definitely amazing).  I want to talk about the kind of magic that happens in the ordinary world around us.  The kind of magic that gives you goosebumps, the kind of magic that births dejavu, the kind of big magic that happens within us when everything comes together.

I'm a believer that magic comes to you when you need it most.  Like a breath of air when you're drowning.  On the road so far we've had a lot of highs and lows.  Much like the rolling hills that we travel down.  Times of pure magic.  Times of exhausted darkness.  We've seen more sunsets, sunrises, and stars than we have in years.  We've had more long talks and held gazes.  We've also snapped at each other and been on the edge of losing it more than we have in awhile.

We had set up camp after a particularly long day.  Lucy June had just not wanted to be in the truck.  She clung to my chest laughing and crying at the same time when I opened the door to try to put her in her car seat.  It's heart wrenching.  She cried off and on all day thanks to fatigue and four giant molars cutting their way into her mouth.  When we arrived at camp she was done. 

Sometimes distraction is our best friend.  So she and I embarked on a small hike.  We soaked in the sun, the new green of spring, and became flush with exertion.  But by the time we came back we were both done.  No one knows the fatigue of being on the road until you do it.  And we were all feeling its full weight that night.  By the time we had made it through a screaming dinner and put her to bed, Zach and I sat in a crushing silence.  Fatigue is also the bringer of doubt.  It whispers to you about your faults--your insecurities--your regrets. 

Out of the darkness glided a Luna moth.  Silent and gliding making large graceful loops into the lamp light.  It mesmerized us.  Brought us out of our own selfish thoughts to gaze at its translucent beauty.  It was magic.  The magic of childhood summers and teenage twilights.  That deep breath of fresh air.  Big magic in small ways. 

On a Personal Note

I just peed on our camper floor.  You would think that this would be something that our one year old would do but instead she’s looking at me quizzically with her dark brown judgy eyes.  

Zach woke bright and early to walk the half mile to the campground bath house and get in a shower before we took off on the road again.  I woke up after him and my post birth bladder was about to burst.  I nursed our daughter, trying to keep her kicking feet away from my abdomen.  Then I did what any camping woman would do, I went outside to pop a squat.  However at this particular campground, I had neighbors with no real cover in between us.  Not a problem, I’ll just go over towards the beach.  At the beach an early morning fisherman gave me a cheerful wave, “Morning!”  I mumbled and turned around.

I was getting desperate.  I went back into the camper where our daughter was secured in her travel bed and starting to complain.  “Okay okay okay, what can I pee in?”  I grabbed a ziploc bag.  Eureka!  

This particular Ziploc bag had a hole.  “Shit.”

The camper comes stocked with a toilet.  However, we hadn’t set it up yet and I had never used it.  In my pee frenzy, the idea of having to scoop pee out of the toilet seemed like a stupid option.

I flung the door open and sprinted back out to the beach.  I dropped my pants and let fly.  I stood up, locked eyes with my fisherman pal, and smiled, “Morning!”

Laundromat

The muggy hotness of the room is stifling.  Sweat beads all over my body, making puddles, dark creases, and a glistening mustache.  Despite the sweat, heat, and there being a million people, the room smells fresh.  The chemical sweetness of a multitude of different detergent brands wafts into the air with each machine door that opens.

It’s laundry day.  And apparently Sunday is everyone’s laundry day in Florida City.  The Laundromat is packed with people from every background and age group.  Except white.  I’m the only white person in the room.

I struggled to keep Lucy June from running off while I get our laundry out of the dryer and into the cart to be folded.  It’s a one step forward, two steps back situation.  I get a pair of panties into the cart.  Success!  I chase LJ across the room.  I get two pairs of socks into the cart.  Success!  I pull LJ from under a table.  Seeing me struggle, another Mom comes across the room, “Would you like me to hold the baby?”  Another Mom also come over, “I can hold your cart while you unload.”

Each time I have moved in my life I have become more segregated.  Not intentionally.  But it seemed that each time I had less and less exposure to different cultures and races.  It’s something that I was acutely aware of in Tennessee.  My coworkers were white.  My friends were mostly white.  Then, by becoming a stay at home working Mom, I just didn’t see anyone.  Especially anyone new.  

When Zach and I decided to actually go on this adventure my heart leapt at the chance to experience different areas of the country and different cultures.  And here I was, the odd ball out, and feeling self conscious.  

In 2005 I spent a month in Zimbabwe and for the first time in my life I was a minority.   I stood out like a beacon.  That experience taught me a lot about myself.  About my unconscious thoughts.  About the nature of hate.  The nature of discrimination.  It also taught me that people are people.  And that love is love.

As I sat in the Laundromat, melting, feeling self conscious, and thinking about all of this.  My beautiful, red-headed, unselfconscious daughter reached out to the big black man next to us and stroked his arm.  She smiled her wrinkled nose smile at him as I apologized for her lack of boundaries.  He just smiled and cooed at her, “You’re loving on Big Joe aren’t you?”  She giggled and stroked his arm again.

I love watching her on this trip.  I love seeing how children bring us all back together again.  How parenting can break social boundaries just because you’re all in the same boat.  I love that she doesn’t know any difference between one person and another yet.  We often joke that she is our Ambassador.  She loves people and people love her.

We try to teach our kids so much but often we can learn so much from them.  We can learn to just be.  That people are just people.  And that love is love.   

On Leaving

"You really were made to do this," my Mom laughs as we sit on our old sunken couch.  She's in for a couple days to help babysit as I try to shove the parts of our lives we want to hold on to into plastic bins.  Zach is another world away.  Taking in the vast West and battling alternators on lonely roads.  

She and I were reminiscing about all our family camping trips.  In the summer we would pile in our van and head for the mountains.  Windows down and the cool mountain air catching our voices as we would sing.  Yup, we were that family.  We joke that our family is cursed.  We never had a family camping trip that didn't get rained on.  And by rain I mean drought breaking, record making monsoons.  Some of my earliest memories are splashing around in puddles with my barbie in hand.  My parents stubborn determination to make the most of each trip kept us there.  We didn't pack up and go home.  We made the most of it.  Always.

 
I come from a heritage of campers and adventurers.  My Mom and Dad both got it from their parents; boy scouts, girls scouts, troop leaders, back packing, and long road trips to Alaska.  It's deep down in me.  A longing.  

All the same giving up roots is hard.  After years of being a Pastors kid and moving, I never expected to stay in one place very long.  But after eight years, Knoxville has made an impression on me.  It's been a place of firsts.  First house we owned, first place as a married couple, first renovation, and first child.  Those things are hard to let go of, but it's the little things that really sink their hooks into you.  The smell of our front door, the creak in the hardwood floors, the way the morning light streams into our daughters bedroom, the cool shade in the garage in the afternoon.  Knowing where I'm going when there is a year of getting lost ahead.  

People are always the hardest though.  We have been fortunate to have a village of family and friends in Knoxville that support and help us on a daily basis.  They believe in us.  And it's their faith that makes leaving, and the knot in my throat when I think about leaving them, easier.  After years of moving I know that people like that in your life, stay in your life.  Your life is more beautiful because of them.  I've always thought that in some ways I have been lucky to move throughout my life.  Along the way I have met amazing people and gathered them close to me.  I take them with me to the next place and they embolden me.  

Leaving is hard.  That's the simple truth.  The longing inside of me gives me confidence that this is right for us.  That I have been waiting for a trip like this.  That maybe I was even made for it.  To continue to pass on that heritage to our daughter.  To show her how to make the most of it.  Always.
    

Bare Mini Sessions

If you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you know that I have shared several images from the Bare Mini Sessions I held at The Hive in January.  And by several I mean...a lot.  Like probably a lot a lot.  But it has taken me until now to really process the emotions that came with these sessions.

My Bare (boudoir) clients always blow me away.  The ladies at these mini sessions were no exception.  Their trust, honesty, and authenticity absolutely moved me.  I had spent months dreaming about these sessions.  Yes, I dream about half naked ladies.  I was dreaming about light, mood, poses, and my biggest fear was failing to capture what these ladies were offering to me...which was their honest to God selves.  I am nothing if not stubborn.  Or determined to put it nicely.  So when the weather called for icy conditions, we worked it out.  Weather be damned!  These ladies were right with me every step of the way and were so trusting.  What meant the most to me though was the atmosphere of friendship and encouragement that was in The Hive that day.  They rooted for each other.  Something we ladies don't always do enough.  
Each one of these women is breathtakingly beautiful.  Each one is genuine.  Each one owns who she is.  Lets celebrate that.  

Aliviya and Jordan

I am so excited to finally share this awesome engagement session between Aliviya and Jordan!  These two absolutely rocked their session!  I LOVE that they took it up a notch with the formal attire.  As always the Knoxville Botanical Gardens didn't disappoint.  Give these guys some love!