Portrait 9/52

“Grappling with fate is like meeting an expert wrestler; to escape, you have to accept the fall when you are thrown. The only thing that counts is whether you get back up.” -Deng Ming-Dao

It’s been quiet here for so many reasons. And most of them, I’d rather not relive to be quite honest. Here’s a summary of what we’ve been up to: Thrown out backs, sleep training, wide-spread influenza (one so terribly brutal, it must go by it’s full name), milk supply loss, lots of chicken soup, and bucket loads of snuggles. The good news is today was perfect. It was extraordinary in that it was back to ordinary. A sense of normalcy was soaked up and enjoyed, we bathed in it’s return, and welcomed it with open arms and hearts. Here’s a comparative summary of what today was like: long walk, playing at the park, yard work, home cooked comfort food, and home made cookies (Grandma May’s recipe, of course). The clouds have parted, the sun is shining through, and it’s warming our weary bones that thirsted for rest, health, and vitality.
I have so many photos to share with you. Not as many words. Not yet. So for now, I’ll share a few more photos of the babe. Because this is, after all, HER portrait series, and I’ve fallen behind. Expect more come Sunday.

Portrait 8/52

“Fear doesn’t shut you down; it wakes you up.” -Veronica Roth

Out of all the weeks in the year thus far, this week I had the slimmest pickings when it came to choosing a portrait. That can be attributed to a crazy week. Life. Ups. Downs. Sideways-es. EVERYTHING. But I can also attribute it to the start of my photography class and instead of feeling inspired and energized and motivated and fresh, I felt… discouraged. Overwhelmed. I was awakened to what little I actually know when it comes to photography and framing a portrait, and the vibe of the class didn’t leave me thirsting for more, but feeling inadequate and “behind the curve.”
Time to give myself a reality check. Guess what? IT DOESN’T MATTER. What I know now has absolutely no bearing on what I learn and what I do with that information moving forward. If I had never taken a class, I’d still be blissfully snapping photos, and eventually through trial and error I would get better, but probably not nearly as quickly as I will now. Just sitting through that two hour class feeling like I was marinating in a cacophony of foreign words awakened me to the vast ocean of knowledge that I’m just starting to dip my toes into. There’s nothing wrong with starting from scratch. But if I don’t even dive in? Just stand at the shoreline, wishing I knew how to swim already? Then I’d really be missing out.
I have so, so much to learn. But I also have the most to gain out of everyone in the class. With the least amount of technical knowledge or experience, I have the most room for growth and improvement. That means I’m getting the most bang for my buck, if I pick up my bootstraps and do this damned thing. So somebody please, give me a swift kick (not too swift!), and let’s dive in the water. Even if it’s frigid at first, I’ll acclimate and learn how to swim. And I’ll swim from the heart. Because that’s why I started this in the first place. Not to be the best, not to know the most, but to pursue something I love, and capture my loved ones doing their thing.

Portrait 7/52

This week I had the hardest time selecting my absolute favorite portrait of Isla. So I need to share a whole bunch of them with you!! Brace yourself for an onslaught of heaps and heaps of adorableness.

We spent time toddling around in our favorite coffee shop Friday morning. Isla made herself right at home, danced when the grinder went on, and tried to climb the counter to visit one of her favorite baristas.

Isla’s naps magically coincided with a fun play date where she got to practice some new words. She’s started signing baby, up, down, friend, chicken, bed, and play. She also continues to pet her little friend’s hair like she does her beloved animals. We’ll go over personal boundaries later, I’m thinking around month 18 or so.

A lot of silliness ensued. A LOT. She’s making new discoveries daily, pushing all boundaries and limits, and starting to attempt running. Didn’t she just start walking?!?

Isla had her first real park experience at Esther Short Park today. She went down the slide with her Papa, tasted bark chips, and stood, frozen in her tracks in sheer fascination as she soaked up all the movement and sounds and laughter around her.

Annnnnnd…. Jacob even snapped some photos of Isla and me together! I usually only share photos I take, but these were way too good not to post. Especially this last one. I have no clue what was happening here, but it’s amazing Jake captured it as it was unfolding! All in all, we had a terrific week. Today Jacob mentioned, “If we could only freeze time right now.” I stopped and considered that sentiment; this is one of the only phases I’ve ever experienced where I would be happy to freeze time. If we could freeze time, I could give myself an extra moment to breath all of this in and paint a picture that is crystal clear to stow away in my memory bank forever. That way I wouldn’t have to dust off the old photos catalogued away to bring it all back, it would just be there, readily available for me to enjoy and hold on to. But that’s not the way time works, so I’ll have to just be in each moment as it’s presented to me, and hug my family even tighter, knowing that as each moment slips away from present to past, we are growing closer, loving more fiercely, and facing the unknown together. If we froze time we’d be neglecting the fun that lies ahead, and I have a feeling great things lie not too far ahead.

Portrait 6/52

Although a lot of time was spent outside the house last week, looking back on my photos, all of them were taken at home. I guess that means we are most comfortable and in a habit of taking out the camera in our cozy home, but also that we could be dangerously approaching getting in a rut. I need to challenge and stretch myself into a place of discomfort and take photos while we are out and about without fear that some cute kid that happens to get in the photo’s parent is going to approach me and confront me about where these images are going, and do I have a waiver to sign, and by the way little Aero Rain Creed  is allergic to teething slobber, so could I just disinfect my child’s hands and face and… oh heck, my entire child, please and thanks? (By the way, you can’t steal that name- as I was typing it in jest I realized it’s brilliant and will be #2’s name if that should one day happen. I’m speaking with my lawyer now to copyright that shit.)
But maybe I’m just being paranoid. Or maybe I’m being realistic and careful. Because the more I spend time with parents, the more I realize they are all just as crazy as me. Only we all have different quirks and methods and hang ups. Being a parent in modern society has got to be a lot more stressful than it was pre-industrialization and technology. When you opened up your back door and let your kid run outside barefoot in the wilderness or neighborhood, because you knew everyone, and that’s just what kids did. You trusted that people were inherently good, and for the most part? They still are. You trusted that the community would keep an eye out for your tyke. You trusted your little one, for that matter, to understand what was dangerous and what was safe, to follow their gut, and play well with others. We are getting so “in touch” technologically, that we are losing touch, personally, and it’s kind of scary. I feel like I spend more time texting with some of my friends than I do speaking face to face. We are losing something in this day and age, and it’s manifesting itself by making us neurotic and harder to get along with in our interactions. Everyone has so many opinions and liberties that it’s easy to accidentally trample on or interfere with someone else’s beliefs by simply following your own. So when I take a camera out into the urban jungle, i don’t know where other people stand on the issue. And I don’t know if my taking a photo of a moment will ruin my ability to participate in and experience that moment. To be truly present, don’t you need to see through your eyes and your heart, not the camera lens? These are all things I will grapple with as I try to balance both savoring and capturing moments of Isla’s youth and my family’s journey through life. While I ponder all this, I’ll provide you with more photos, taken within the safe confines of our home.

Portrait 5/52

“But the beauty is in the walking — we are betrayed by destinations.” -Gywn Thomas

We went to Latourell Falls on Saturday. It was very cold. And we weren’t sure if we were following the “right” path. But as we went along and decided not to get caught up on that, we relaxed and felt more adventuresome and had a great time. This is not the best portrait of Isla, but it’s still one of my favorites from the trip, so I’m choosing it as my fifth in the series. I’d like to write more (there are so many thoughts and feelings that seem to be racing by before I manage to find the time to pin them down in writing) but I’m sleepy, and when I’m sleepy I need to take advantage of that and try to sleep.
I will say that Isla is officially walking now! It’s not the least bit strange to see her do it, either. It’s almost like she finally joined the party of believers in her ability. And now she’s practically running. More words at a later date. For now, I’ll fill in the gap with photos.

Portrait 4/52

“We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea– whether it is to sail or to watch it– we are going back from whence we came.” -John F. Kennedy

We took a trip to the beach. And because we just got back today, I feel like I haven’t had time to digest it all and let the wonder of it marinate so that I can articulate the best of our experiences with well deserved due diligence. I will speak briefly, though, if for no other reason than to make sure my fingers and mind don’t rust from all the salt water exposure and lack of practice.
We took a trip to the beach: Cape Meares, Oregon, to be exact. Close to the place I consider my hometown, where I spent most of my childhood, Oceanside, Oregon, Cape Meares is the slightly sleepier, small beach town comprised of cedar shake homes perched atop sand dunes, precariously close to the volatile waves. As you might expect in January, there was hardly anyone around, save locals and a few young families, like our own, aching to get out of town mid winter. My sister and her boyfriend were able to join us, a treat that felt so serendipitous to have come together between work and school schedules, pet ownership, and personal lives, that I didn’t dare exhale until it all actually came together and we were there, enjoying each others company. The stars aligned and it happened. And it was so glorious.
To go back to the place you are from with your sister and to experience it anew is amazing. To have the added company of some of the people most near and dear to our hearts made it even more special. It was the recipe for exactly what my heart, skin, and soul needed; reminiscing, laughing, relaxing, playing, and breathing. We celebrated my birthday, cooked good food, drank good wine and home-brewed beer, took long walks on the beach, hunted for clams (to no avail), and then scavenged for rocks and sand dollars instead.
This quest for clams brought us to the beach past 9 p.m., when the tide was reaching it’s lowest point. It was during the lowest tide and the darkest hours I experienced the highest joy and greatest light of our trip. To walk a beach with no sign of other beings nearby, in the pitch dark, with scarce to no light pollution was exhilarating. To do it with my baby strapped close to my heart and core as she fell asleep to the rhythm of my careful, steady steps in the sand made my heart flood with joy and love. And then to turn off the flashlight and tune into the instinctual skill we all have within us if we reach deep, to connect to our environment and be a part of it; to let our eyes adjust to the encompassing thick folds fog and darkness, and our feet trust and ground our bodies, and our ears listen for the waves of the crashing ocean beside us to guide us, made the exhilaration, the joy, the love all feel like it belonged. There is a peace that washes over you at night amongst a star studded sky, with the sand beneath your feet and the salty ocean air kissing your lips that is simply unmatched. When it feels so natural to be in such a state of joy and surrender, it soaks up into every pore and fiber of your being. There is a sense of security, and belonging, and connection.
To say I feel rejuvenated would be an understatement. We went our separate ways Sunday, and Jacob and I went on to Astoria for another night and day. Many more experiences and fun times were had, and will likely be shared, but I wanted to try to bottle up that memory before it sifted out and morphed like the dunes gradually return to the sea under the weight of time and change. I feel like the richest girl on earth after being showered with love by my sister and her boyfriend and my husband and baby all weekend, so please excuse my dreamy smile as I head back into another work-week, trying to hold onto a little bit of sand in my pockets and strain to hear the roar of the ocean in my ears.
This is the runner-up portrait for this week. I love this photo so much; it reminds me of the movie Flash Dance, with her pose, and her size 2T leggings that need to be grown into and cling to her chubby feet like 1980’s stirrup tights. OH, and her shirt. It’s a Pink Floyd vintage (looking) shirt. As Jacob pointed out, worn clothes on fresh babies looks pretty hilarious. Like an effort to show you’re an O.G. supporter of a rock band that’s now become too main stream for your taste. But you’re only a year old and Pink Floyd is… well. (Comparatively) old. DARLING!

Portrait 3/52

“I think, at a child’s birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift would be curiosity.” -Eleanor Roosevelt

To me this photo speaks not only of a child’s interest in every little detail in the world around her, but also of the unique connection shared between her and her pet. And if you look a moment longer, you will also notice the adoring Grandma of the babe in the background: hands wrapped lovingly around the child’s middle, but loosely enough to let her explore her environment freely. The tether is in place only for basic safety, but the babe’s curiosity is allowed and invited to let mind and body roam without limit. In all likelihood, Finnigan the dog is peering down on the possibility of scoring some dropped food or runaway crumbs. But some sort of communication, indication from his fellow carpet dweller clued him in on this tip. Or, it could have been the reverse situation. This little babe is looking down to see what her pet is so eagerly scoping out, lest it be a new experience for her to encounter. Because anything new is welcome with open arms, and open mouth.
Yes, most exploring is done orally at this stage, gummed and chewed with emerging teeth, sometimes with the intent of easing the discomfort that comes with the territory. Other times, a discovered leaf, rock, food morsel, feather is simply placed on the tongue for further inspection, followed by a reaction, easily read across the young, round, soft face what the verdict was about the flavor associated with it. The transparency of youth is beautiful; The confidence with which she goes about her business of fulfilling her endless curiosity and interest in the world around her. She is not self conscious of anything yet and doesn’t bother covering up raw emotions that naturally paint a picture across the fresh canvas of her chubby face. This innocence, adventurous spirit, and true delight in life is the greatest gift I’m given each day. To once again be granted a peek at life through the eyes of a child is a reminder to keep your curiosity intact. No matter how much you know, there is always something left to learn, and without the initial wondering to get the avalanche started, you may never take the first step on your next greatest adventure.

Portrait 2/52

“Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.”
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

In picking a portrait for this week, I had so many options to chose from that I loved, I just want to share them all with you! I’ll settle on sharing my absolute favorites. The capture above is one of Isla’s most deliciously naughty pastimes. She can’t help but savor in the forbidden act of perusing the contents that clutter the top of my nightstand. There is a rock that my friend gave me to help with sleep, stacks of books either finished, half read and abandoned, or currently being devoured each night. There are water glasses, sometimes half full (or empty, depending on your perspective) that are the holy grail of all objects to pinch her chubby little fingers on. Not only does a satisfyingly loud sound emit when it’s pulled over, but a cascade of water splashes over everything, and slides off the oak edges like a dam was relieved it’s duties and the water ran wild, seeking every possible fissure to find a new home in. Pony tail holders are often within reach, and are especially fun to chew on and soak with teething spit, then discard between the mattress and frame, or other hard to reach, dusty depths. Blue blocker glasses used when looking at screens late at night are also an interesting find, although only fun if everything else is pushed out of reach, as there is never much hubbub about playing with these cheap plastic things. The salt lamp that emits a soft, red glow over everything is fun to lick, but far too heavy to bother with. If it can’t be easily pushed over to make a thrilling crash, or grasped to carefully chew while pondering life’s mysteries, what good is it, anyway?

Many of these pictures were taken at home on our lovely, lazy Sunday, spent making soup broth, building a fire, and preparing a home cooked meal. Our Sunday morning was spent at a coffee shop and then brunch (we went full PDX hipster this morning, and it was most definitely the best decision).

Other photos were taken on a walk at WSU, or on another scenic walk we took at Lewisville park.

Hope your Sunday was also restorative and savory, with a dash of lazy.

01.01.15

So this is the part where I write words. There are so many feelings and thoughts that come to mind when I look at pictures, but when there is a blank canvas to fill with those thoughts, it suddenly becomes intimidating and uncomfortable. Like standing in front of an unknown audience in your drawers kind of vulnerable.
I’m going to do my best to be honest and open, genuine and true. Not to contrive my words to appeal to family, friends, people I don’t know and will never meet who I intrinsically want to like me. Just to put down what I feel at any given moment. Mostly for myself. I realize this is a very public forum, but I want to make our family’s moments accessible to those who are interested in keeping up. I have been contemplating the best way to escape social media but not lose complete touch, and this may be my middle ground compromise this year. It’s still very public, but I’m not shouting my every thought and meal and moment at the top of my lungs on acquaintances news feeds. This way, at least you’ll have to seek it out.
Here i can share what’s going on in my family’s life and in our hearts through pictures and words. Photography and writing are both things I enjoy. Although very green in photography, I’m motivated to learn simply for the selfish satisfaction of documenting our rapidly growing, changing, evolving baby. Strike that: “toddler.” Who has toddled 7 full steps on her own, as of today, by the way. My writing is rusty, so bear with me as I stumble through the dark searching for the light switch. Much of this may be composed in haste or a stupor, as the life of a mother affords very little time to oneself. But motherhood kindly gives me plenty of time to savor little things, moments, gestures, nuances, that have become the new fabric of my life. A life which, although slower paced in many respects, is rewarding. Slowing down and raising a child full time has changed me and changed the dynamic of Jacob and my relationship. But the story that is rewriting itself daily, and the bond that is continually strengthened like a rock under pressure, makes my tired eyes well up in tears of happiness and my heart overflow with love.
Going forward in 2015, I can only imagine that the pace will quicken as I attempt to match stride with a toddler in constant motion. It’s the times in between, the nap times and when she dreams, that I’m able to breath, reflect, and record what goes on before it escapes my minds memory, though the feelings will forever be imprinted on my heart.