sacred roots | jan

Many years ago I photographed Jan, an homage to the hard work she had put into her body and into her life. She was cut and tight and strong and no one could take that from her. Just freshly emerging from a season that was incredibly painful, she had hardened. She looked damn good though. The pictures turned out amazing. I remember leaving the session feeling so empowered and excited about the images we captured. Little did I know that Jan was at the peak of a serious eating disorder. The control over her body had reached a dangerous point, her harm of self out of control, and it was not long after our session that she was admitted into a rehab for treatment.

Fast forward to this Summer.

She came to me so bright and in her body…like it was a home not an enemy. I noticed the new ink on her arm, ”brave”, and thought to myself how incredible it was that she could say that word about herself. We wove in and out of the river, clinging to trees, sinking into the roots and it was magical. I noticed how soft she was, melting into the earth and into herself. I noticed how strong her body still was, confident. We talked about life and how freaking hard it is, she opened her hands to the warmth of the sun. Oh we celebrated. Oh we giggled and squealed in delight. Oh how we sat in the silence of the forest with the stream trickling by.

This is how I want my sessions to be forever. A sighing praise.

growing | art and bri

This was a dream:

the bare feet, the missing teeth, the way their parents arms encircled them. I loved every second of photographing this family on their little farm.

I was so taken with the care this family took with the food that they grew and in that same vein the tender care they loved their children with. Growing is such a journey. It’s not always smooth, there are mistakes, but love and sun sure do make things grow and in this home there was sun and love a plenty.
To follow this family you can watch them on their YouTube channel:

https://www.youtube.com/c/ARTandBRI

lydia and her babies

In the middle of summer after a heavy rain storm that never seemed would end, I stepped into my woods with Lydia and her babies. It was like stepping through the wardrobe. I don’t know how much time passed as I breathlessly captured each of their soulful spirits: their impish grins, baby hands of treasures, and the way they breathed in their mother and nestled into her body. I love every image we captured together that day and I collapsed into my bed in ecstasy with river water and grass stuck to my feet .

Mamas so often are not in the picture and we need to change that. We need not only to capture her likeness but the way she made you feel: the way your body felt next to hers, the way she grabbed your hand when you were scared, the sparkle in her eye, the strength that shoots from her like the strongest sapling. And it’s never too late for that.