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For the history books

We all deserve this.

A quiet moment in the light.
To shine.
To be seen.
To be put in our own history books.

Motherhood doesn’t always look or feel or present itself like this. But there *are* these moments - when we feel alive and seen and quite frankly, like superhuman beings of love.

Don’t think that by making these images which reflect those magical parts of ourselves, that we’re somehow glossing over the other realities.
We are both/and.
We contain multitudes.

One part of ourselves, or one image made, or one feeling felt, isn’t truer than another.

And we absolutely deserve, as the hard working superhuman beings of love that we (mostly) are, to have these pieces of the puzzle that show what the glow of loving one another sometimes felt like.

Client work shot on film (35mm & 120) and digital.

bloom after bloom after bloom after bloom

Naked salt watered skin

and skin watered by tears

the sound of tents being unzipped and poems being read

new friends across oceans, felt through screens

bloom after bloom after bloom after bloom

fingers sticky from toasted marshmallows

and plums fresh from the tree

the look of words on pages, written and underlined in black ink

his hands on her back and my mouth on his cheeks

and our arms around each other

pains that came both inevitable and unexpected

the deep earthy scent of tomato plants and failed bbqs 

and sweaty bodies exasperated by middy sun

the long, deep shadows and painterly pink skies of dawn and sunset.

As the days roll in to Autumn and the air turns a cool, crisp shades of orange and grey, we say goodbye to summer.