I believe that once you hit a certain age which remains nameless, you have earned week long personal holidays.  So your birthday becomes your birth week.  And by the transitive property, Mother’s Day is actually Mother’s Week. Which means that I am not actually late in wishing all my amazing momma clients, friends and family out there a Happy Mother’s Day.  See how I roll?

While these photos weren’t taken on Mother’s Day, I thought I would share them in honor of the day because Sam documented the very first gift I ever received from my son.  We were hanging out at the water front in New Orleans on a lazy afternoon, watching the ships come in when Fiver picked a dandelion and handed it to me.  When he saw how happy it made me it became a game of running, picking, and laughing, all while managing to cling on to his apple as he procured and delivered gifts.  I was so puffed up, watching me son experience joy from the act of giving for the first time.  It was a giant leap for my man cub and I’m so happy that Sam had a camera handy and took the time to document it for me.

As for my gift, the dandelions made their way into a book and traveled home with us where they were pressed and dryed and now live in a special drawer in my jewelry box along side Arbus’ puppy teeth and other sentimental relics of ordinary days.   May all you mommas have a special drawer where you tuck away the treasured gifts, no matter how mundane, as a reminder that every sacrifice you make to create the best life for your children pays off many fold.  Mommas… here’s to you.

Posted by Mel @ 9:15 pm, in Personal, Portraits, Wee Ones | 1 comment | Permalink

As I walked to my chair to sit down and write this post, I felt the familiar crush of a Cheerio beneath my shoe, called the dog to come clean it up and wondered how on earth we got our closest friends to follow us into this beautiful mess.  We haven’t exactly made it look easy, our entry into parenthood was less than graceful and its the people closest to us that have born the brunt of our complaints about lack of sleep, freedom and privacy in the bathroom.   They have ignored moody outbursts while stepping over mine fields of toys to access a fridge with sticky handles, turning a blind eye to the dirty diaper sitting on a piece of furniture that somehow never made it to the pail.  But I guess they have also watched us glow, laugh, cuddle, sing, smile, rock and coo while getting stupidly excited about the small things in life, like the way my son says, “belly button”.  I guess that these are the impressions that stuck since one by one, ready or not, our favorite DINKs (dual income, no kids) are dropping like flies.

Enter Dan and Erin who rented an apartment from us while relocating from New Orleans to Richmond after Katrina.  They were the Ricardos (young, riotous and shenanigan prone) and we were the Mertzs (a little older, a little grumpier, equally shenanigan prone) and life as we knew it in Richmond hasn’t been the same since they came.  Many years, travels, life changes and shenanigans later, we are family.  We were so happy when they announced that they would be joining us in the beautiful mess.

If you read my post on Olivia’s belly portraits this past summer, you already know that I arrived at their house with my equipment, some excitement and quite a bit of dread.  Taking pictures of people I love is always infinitely harder than photographing people I have just met for reasons I haven’t entirely figured out.  The sun was not cooperating as the sky continued to darken and threaten rain… so much for good light.  Poor Dan had been up all night working and fell asleep in the nursery during a costume change!   Erin was every bit as nervous as I was and its probably good that photos can’t reveal the occasional irreverent conversation amidst our chatter.  Mostly we talked momma stuff and despite the awkwardness, it was nice to get Erin to myself for a little while without the men folk or the ankle biter.  The house was quiet and dark and warm like a favorite cup of tea.  She and I weren’t nearly as quiet as the photos look but if they feel pensive, that was real.

If there’s something I really like about belly portraits and first time mommas, its the quiet before the storm.  Pregnant women in their final trimester, if left to their devices, are a flurry of nesting activity, whirling dervishes of laundry and preparation.  So its nice to press the pause button and allow the calm, confidence and readiness to rise to the surface: which is exactly what I see in these photos of Erin.

Even Sienna Brulee is ready.  Reluctant maybe, but ready…

Erin and Dan welcomed Charleton Fisher O’Regan to the world a week ago yesterday and are doing fantastic together.  Dan is already a master swaddler, as we got to see during a brief hospital visit the day after Charlie was born.  Welcome to the world, sweet Charlie.  D&E, welcome to the Beautiful Mess.  And to all three of you, welcome home.

Posted by Mel @ 6:29 pm, in Bellies, Personal, Portraits, Wee Ones | No comments | Permalink

To those of you we know and to those of you we have yet to meet, we wish you and yours warmth and wonder this Christmas.  May you have family near by to hold close, a pair of warm (footie!) pajamas to cozy up in, an exciting dash down the stairs Christmas morning and at least one special meal to share with others.  May you give and receive something precious this year.  May you make and record memories that keep you warm every day of the year.  This is our wish, from our home to yours.

(Fiver and his cousin Jordan with Santa!)

Posted by Mel @ 2:48 pm, in Personal, Wee Ones | 1 comment | Permalink

Cascarones (Confetti Eggs), Spicer Family Farm Party, 11/6

Its no surprise that my iPhone and I have become inseparable.  What is shocking is that I am feeling more connected to photography right now through my iPhone than any of my professional cameras.

Say what?

I know, its a lot like that thing with Hugh Grant married to beautiful Elizabeth Hurley and getting busted with a prostitute.  Kind of hard to understand.

Its practically 2011 and everybody and their uncle is a pro photographer.  The rise of digital photography has leveled the playing field through immediate feedback.  Good bye darkrooms, text books, light meters and equivalent exposure problems; hello Flickr, Facebook and Photoshop.   F-what?

Before this starts to sound like an Andy Rooney style rant, I have loved running a business through this era.  Its been exciting, change and opportunity are everywhere, and I’m truly glad to see that great wedding photography is everywhere now too, unlike the dark ages when Sam and I were married.  It has elevated the profession.  The only problem is that we are all using the same lenses, we’re all attending the same seminars, we’re all practicing the same techniques and worshipping the same “rock stars” and as a result its all looking…. well, you know.

Back to my iPhone.  I downloaded Hipstamatic and at first, found myself giggling at the two bit mime of the alternative processes that wooed me into the fold of photo love.  I rolled my eyes at dippy “equipment” descriptions such as, “The Jimmy Lens: James was cool but Jimmy could walk through flames.  This lens rocks the daylight, the nightlife and everything in between.”  I’m no gear head but even I could use a little more than that!  Resulting photos didn’t look so much like analog capture as a mish mash of  alternative processes on acid, combining Holga, Lomo, Kodachrome, cross processing, infra red and other effects into a single kitsch photo with a technique identity crisis.

But I can’t stop playing with it.  For 8 days now we have documented our son with it.  For 7 nights I have had photo related dreams, remembering the small joys of film that I thought had been long forgotten:

-the sound a dark slide makes as you remove it, like drawing a tiny sword

-the tickle of acetic acid (stop bath) on your nose when you fix a 10 gallon drum

-the excitement of pushing soapy photo flo bubbles away to get the first glimpse of 12 precious, newly developed frames (more like 10 precious jewels, 2 dudds, I was very consistent)

-sleeving negatives, slightly curly and warm from the dryer, armed with a cup of coffee, a Sharpie and a loop over a light table

-the creative community of a darkroom

As I shoot with my iPhone and wait the eternity of 10 seconds for “development” before I can shoot again, I am reminded of a time when we didn’t gun through frames, when we waited for the decisive moment as Henri Cartier Bresson coined it, when we framed carefully before ever hitting a button, when there were 10-36 opportunities to get it right before loading the next $10 roll of film.  I’m also reminded of a time when a photo was a photo, not a painting or other medium where manipulation is the expectation.  You got what you got and you owned it, good or bad, fat or thin, wrinkles, dirt, slobber, all of it.  And when I am done shooting with my iPhone and go back to see my goodies later once my son is happily occupied with something else, I remember the nervous drive to the photo lab… did that wedding turn out?  And now you know how long I have been doing this.

Are these photos gimmicky?  Clearly yes.  But no more or less than it ever was on film.  And arguably no more or less than the effect of super shallow depth of field through a $1200 super fast prime, bringing the bride and groom crisp to the foreground as the background fades into a romantic, colorful blur (see post below).  Its an argument for the ages but I just want to figure out where I am right now.  And right now I love that these memories look like they could have been me as a baby or my parents as a baby or my grandchild as a baby (if we are still taking camera photos in the future).  They are simultaneously timeless and specific, just like childhood itself, so full of both newness and universals.  No matter how the world progresses from generation to generation, we are all introduced to it the same way.  We learn how to walk.  And as parents we watch the process with absolute awe, as though it has never happened before.

These photos are challenging me to drop the expensive gear for a sec and go back to basics, to work on seeing again.  I’ve realized that expertise and gear don’t differentiate photographers anymore, only vision does.  I’m not sure what the lesson is but I know I’m onto something.  And by the way, square frame, how I have missed you!  We fit together so beautifully you and I, I was never meant to be with a rectangle…

So here it is, photo love and a random week in November, brought to you straight out of my phone.

Playground, 11/5:

Spicer’s Farm Party, 11/6 (pear shot and me walking taken by Sam)

Fun with Safety Glasses, 11/7

First Real Haircut (tragic), 11/8

Mmm, Dinner  11/9

Ice Cream Cousins  (Fiver and Jordan), 11/9, taken by Sam

The Ferry to Yorktown (Michela and Jordan), 11/9, taken by Sam

Grandpa Frank drops by, 11/10

Wagoneer, 11/10

Playground, 11/11

The Truck Daddy Made (unpainted), 11/12

The Truck Daddy Made (unpainted), b/w  11/12

Fall on the Hill, 11/13

Posted by Mel @ 2:01 pm, in Personal, Portraits, Wee Ones | 1 comment | Permalink