Perhaps it was just a natural progression of my creativity that shifted my photographic vision. Or, maybe it was the time away from shooting portraits for clients. Or, maybe it was my age. It could have been any number of things, but above all else, I trace it back to the bout with depression I experienced in the early days of having my second child. It was through my daily struggle that I began to see things differently.
There have been more tea parties in my life than I can count. Like with any of our children's phases, just when it seems like it will never end, it does. It's pictures like this that take me back to the days when her hands were small enough to hold this tiny tea set, and when she'd dress up in her princess dress whenever the occasion allowed. Soft light and a shallow depth of field worked well to distill this dreamy morning, one that looked so much like every morning during this sweet time in our lives.
Fragile, foggy, exhausted, I lifted my lens like a magnifying glass, hyper-focused on the most heartbreakingly miraculous glimmers of beauty that were sprinkled about in my everyday life: my daughter's impossibly long eyelashes, light dancing on the bath water, the simple yet poetic shape of a cereal bowl, the complicated and tender connection between sisters.
I needed to see and appreciate those small, often overlooked details to get me through the days, to help me stay grounded and grateful, and to help keep me stay connected to the joy of motherhood. Photography became more than a tool to document my life, it was my way of seeing what was real and true.
Sometimes a memory is best captured within the context of the space or location. A mere detail of a moment like this couldn't possibly tell the story as well as this kind of wider shot does. A documentary approach works to capture family life as it's actually happening and in this case, the light in the kitchen illuminates my girls perfectly as they begin to help prepare a weekend meal for the family, aprons and all.
Shot from the opposite end of our galley kitchen, this early morning moment just had to include our dog who, along with my youngest daughter, is always up with the sun waiting on the first meal of the day. Like in the first kitchen shot, the light coming in through our sliding door makes it possible for me to capture our day with the natural light I love (and depend on).