That Sparkle.

{{  I really didn’t anticipate launching this blog right out of the gate with thoughts on photography + portraiture; Promise. }}

I love capturing everyday moments.  I’ve been narrowing my niche down + am finding that the sessions that I love the absolute most end up being the ones simply working with the kiddos.  They're so unbiased.  They don't worry about if there's something in their teeth, a blemish on their skin or an extra roll around their waistline.  Most of the time, they're not even terribly concerned about the photos at all.  I wish I could bottle the feeling you get when you make a child’s eye sparkle; or at the very least capture it.  Forever. 

My love affair with the camera didn’t actually fully materialize until after I had my girls.  I was surrounded by all things photography growing up.  My dad had a darkroom in our basement and a creative eye.  My sweet Grandpa Appel took pictures of everything.  And I mean everything; even funerals.  For real.  But he took photos with a contagious grin + an amazing heart.  We rolled our eyes + tried our hardest to stay out of his line of fire.

I've only recently given thought to his why.  I have figured out that he loved life so much, that he wanted to capture everything.  My grandparents had a large bookshelf in their sunroom which chronicled their life, complete with a handwritten index for the 50+ albums orderly arranged on the shelves.  All extra documentation penned in his blue manuscript.  Treasure.  

{ this is a note that my grandpa tucked underneath a picture of us.  love. }

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  FYI : My grandfather could be the topic of a whole entire blog.  Or book.  Or both.  Another story for another day ...

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Imagine the unimaginable, just for a minute.  You have just a few short minutes to grab whatever you could from your dwelling, right before a tragedy.  {Yadda, yadda, yadda.  We’ve all heard this before.  Yeah, whatever.}

But what do most people say?  I bet I know what my Grandpa would have grabbed.  

What’s the one thing you get snagged on while you’re cleaning out your “stuff”?  

What’s the one thing that actually creates { or even reinforces } some of your earliest memories?  

What’s the one thing that you love flipping through at reunions with friends + family?

My coterie has been inundated with funerals lately.  And guess what everyone clings to?  Memories, of course. But pictures.  We pour through pictures to select the choicest shots that will demonstrate the LIFE that was lived.  Not the dates, but the dash.  

I love feeling like I’m creating little keepsakes.  Little treasures.  I hope that these images will be shared + displayed.  Tucked away into a box someday, only to be discovered again; embraced by grandchildren + great-grandchildren and passed along and photocopied and scanned and shared and loved all over again.

Photos are the tangibles when everything else of a moment has slipped into an intangible reflection.  They’re moments preserved + emotions delivered, again + again.

I love capturing life.  Life as it’s happening.  Life in emotions.  Life in the sparkle of those unadulterated eyes.  It’s amazing.  

And it’s unmistakable.