Feeling the love . . .

You know I love what I do, and shooting photos of people who are enjoying life is the best.  I adored photographing this awesome duo and their sweet dog, Phoebe, as they prepare for the blessings on the way - a little boy AND a little girl.

Phoebe was a rockstar and these two were game for anything, as we worked on illustrating their story.

Clearly, this trio will be ready and able to shower those lucky twins with all of the love they need!

Photography is fun when people are natural and comfortable in their own skin, and these guys were amazing.  

You can feel the love when you see these images . . . I dig that.  Great smiles and happy hearts.

Cheers to you!  I can't wait to meet the kids!

You can see the whole session at Robin, Paul and Phoebe

Squeezing in some Special Smiles . . .

Recently I got to squeeze in a session with some special folks . . . people more like family we finally met than new friends.  We moved to a new town and landed right next door to these fine folks, right where we were supposed to be!

                    We spent the day at the Steeplechase and got a head start on some photos . . .

Later we got the family back together, as the light was waining on a wonderful day, but we wound up with some of the sweetest smiles.  I love these sneaky, sparkly eyes and the personality that shows through these grins.

You won't have any trouble feeling the love among this gang.  It just shows and it's wonderful to be able to capture it with the press of the shutter.

                                           Here's to a special family and great memories!

You ask me why I do this?

a good question;  I'll grant you that.  Sometimes it's good to sit back, have a look and wonder if what you spend your time on is worth it.

I'm delighted to respond with these . . .

This is why I do it.  This is why I stopped a much more conventional, predictable career to juggle a somewhat 'iffy' one.  This is why I sometimes stare at my computer screen for hours, tweaking one little  spot on a photograph.  This is why I adore shooting folks with a camera, why I'll carry the thing around 'til my right hand feels like it might break off!  This is why I press the shutter a million times for every one image that feels perfect and why I believe that there is magic in still photography.

When I sit down and begin to upload shots from my card into my computer, I know it's what I should be doing.  When the pictures begin to reel across my screen as sneak peeks of moments captured in time, I remember it's the right thing.

I get to capture folks I care about, with folks they care about, doing what they love.  Often what they love is simply touching, sitting with, holding hands, laughing with the ones they love most.  There's not enough of that in the world, to be sure.  Capturing those moments - forever - that is good stuff.  Real good stuff.  I'm thankful.

You won't have to see many of these images to see the bond between these two special people.  I love catching the moments when they look into each other's eyes or slip into holding hands or laugh so hard that their eyes shut.  Good stuff.

I've said it before, friends, and I'm sure I'll say many times again . . . this is the good stuff and I get to be part of preserving it.  

Thanks for trusting me with your memories, friends, and thanks be to God for cool people and happy families.

You'll find the entire session at Mollie and Ben

The Halloween miracle . . .

It's truly a

miracle,

a true blue spectacle,

a miracle indeed.

If that doesn't take you back somewhere scary, maybe this will help:

That's right, folks.  Those are the lyrics of the one, the only, that fine specimen of manhood, Barry Manilow.  Barry doesn't do it for me these days, but make no mistake . . . 

. . . when I walked out of Rose's Department Store with my hands carefully caressing the sides of the most beautiful album the world had seen to that point, I was a happy I'd never known.  Aaahhh.

If you didn't know that feeling, you and I might have little to talk about.  Poor you.

For the rule-followers among you, I'm well aware that I haven't revealed the Halloween miracle yet.  That was the lead-up.  It had to be done.

Here is the miracle.  I want to share it with you all.  I've made you aware of miracles in the past.  I've told you secrets.  I've tugged away at years and years of layers to show you some ugly truths, but today's announcement might be in a class by itself.  I just hope my mother hears it in heaven.  She wouldn't believe it.  I don't believe it myself.  

Here it is, friends.  The waiting is over.  

I uttered words in conversation today that I never thought I'd say.  I said something that almost seems sacrilegious, not of my people, wrong, uncalled for.  I said it, though, and I want you to hear it from me.  You know I'm on my third mini-van; you may as well know this.  

I said, "I just love my laundry room.  I love it.  It makes me happy.  I don't even mind doing laundry in it.  I just love it!"   

There it is.  It's out.  My Halloween miracle is now yours, too.  Enjoy.  I never thought I could actually love any part of the laundry process and now I love the whole dang room!  It's upstairs and it has crooked peaks and triangles from the roofline and it's nook-like and it has two happy windows and I do my work at one of them and the sun comes in and the cold stays out and little birdies fly by and there is even room to fold stuff.   I just love it.  I do.  There.

Enjoy what I've said and just go with it.  Never, ever, ever - though - throw it in my face.  Got it?  Don't make any plans to see me and shout, "Deana, aren't you excited about getting back to your dirty clothes?" or anything at all like that.  Okay?  

These two things are true . . .

When this is the scene beside the sink, it means that we've made a mess.  It also means we've painted something.  There are two things I want you to know about that, though - two things that I always notice when I watch children paint or draw or paper mache or glue or pile or smush or dig or create just about anything.  

I'd like to interject here that I'm not artistically trained, I just don't mind watching kids make a mess. And I usually don't mind making a mess myself.  I have watched a lot of kids creating messes.  I was a teacher for a long time - I ran a preschool - I was a camp counselor - I taught art in my garage - my favorite part of having toddlers was letting them take their clothes off and paint like crazy in their high chairs.  I wanted you to know that I was qualified to share the following points.  I've been around the block, people.

When children create, they sing.  Some of them sing loud and clear.  Some of them hum.  Some of them sing songs with real words and some of them sing something that sounds like a grocery list and others sing their stream of consciousness.  They don't sing the same songs as those around them; they are not using three part harmony.  Sometimes the songs are funny.  Sometimes the songs are sweet.  It's fun to hear.  

On Sunday afternoon my kids were painting their pumpkins (note:  they weren't painting their jack-o-lanterns because I thought it was a wonderful creative activity - they were actually painting them because I convinced them that painting them would be awesome and we wouldn't have all of that messy stringy stuff to deal with). Their singing was wonderful.  I sat, mostly quiet, and listened.  I liked it.  They sounded happy.

Another thing that happens when children are painting or creating is that they have no stress.  They might have been angry with one another minutes before they started creating.  They might be going through a period of being anxious about something.  Oddly enough, while they are mid-creation, there is no sign of stress.  There is no anger.  There is no competition.  There is no worry.  There is no negative energy - none.  And no one involved is trying to be anyone other than themselves.

I was thinking about my kids, my artists.  I was thinking about the joy I feel while they create; how I love to hear the music and watch the concentration and comfort on their faces.

I've been wondering why we don't all do more of this.  I've been thinking about how I feel when I create, paint, dream.  It's good for the soul, to be sure.  I've been considering the ways that we grown-ups put up barriers to keep us from letting go the way children do.  I've been wondering why.  Of course we aren't all professional artists, but neither are any of the many children I've watched creating beautiful messes.  

They aren't stopped or silenced by not being the best.  A crazy perfectionism, worry, and fear do not stop children from expressing themselves.  

When do we lose that?  Why do we let it go?  Don't we want to sing unabashedly and allow stress to fall away?  

You're not an artist?  Yes, you are.

You don't have the supplies?  Yes, you do.

You can't sing?  Who cares.

Don't think the stress could be lifted?  Try it.