One of the hardest lessons I learned as a young woman is to never put people, especially those you love, on a pedestal. For years as a child, teenager, and young woman, I held my mother in such high regard that I thought she could do no wrong. She was absolutely perfect in every way. Unfortunately, I was setting up our relationship for failure. When I discovered her brokenness, the glass house I meticulously built around her in my head shattered. It was devastating to find out she had flaws that ran very deep and parallel to my own. Oh how my pride and vanity melded into anger. It took a long time to accept the person, the mother, I discovered in the wreckage. I now realize how unfair it was to put her up on that perch in the first place. This is a lesson I certainly learned the hard way, and one I desperately want you to avoid.
I love walking into a clients home and observing how light supports their family’s story. Every client's home has its own unique story of light. Walking into a new space is a treasure hunt for me. This newborn session from New Year's Eve was a treasure trove of beautiful light and precious newborn details. The kind of sweet details that make your heart melt.
It's quite an honor and humbling to observe motherhood behind my lens. Whether it's my own family or a client's family. I take this job seriously. The fact of the matter is, I believe there is beauty in our own homes, amidst our mundane daily routines. I believe this so much, I'm starting to slowly restructure my photography around this idea.
At this very moment I’m sitting in our living room watching the sun slip below the roofline. It’s last rays illuminating a trail of legos and trucks strung across the floor. I have no intention of picking any of it up. I’m utterly exhausted from a weekend full of lots of adventure and exploring. Right now I'm wanting nothing more than to climb into bed and close my eyes. This is how many, many of my evenings end. Your dad and I put you three to bed. I come down stairs and analyze everything that wasn't able to get done; making mental notes for the next day. The house is quiet and in this little bit of time, I can be still.
I look at my hands and I see my mother’s hands. My mom is very youthful, but her hands are a dead giveaway to her age. Miles women’s hands age in a way that the rest of them doesn’t. It's reflective of who they are. They’re providers. The Miles women--it’s a definitive trait of theirs. They’re hard working women. When I look at my hands I definitely see that nurturing, selfless quality that my mother, my aunts and grandmother’s hands have. I think it’s easy to think you’re not a selfless, nurturing person, but in the last few years it’s definitely something I’ve learned. I will do things for other people until I have nothing left to give. My son, Rockne, has given me the opportunity to be more selfless. I have to practice everyday--putting his needs before my own.
