25.2.13

Natasha + David | 4 Year Anniversary Shoot

so kiss me and smile for me
tell me that you'll wait for me

john denver - i'm leaving on a jet plane
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He was leaving.  When he returned he'd be leaving again.  Going and waiting and coming, for months and years of his life.   But his commitment to the United States Military, waged war with his commitment to his Natasha.  She knew he had to go, and loved to be his wherever he was.  Semper Fidelis! On a stony February day, they promised the grandest promise: to never leave you or forsake you, until God by death shall separate us.   Their simple ceremony in a local park, with their mothers as witnesses, was an act of longing, adoration, support and love.  Within hours, David was leaving.  But not forsaking, not "leaving."  His body would be away, but his heart was always with her.  She sent him off, with her love leading him home.Photobucket
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Over their four year marriage, they've care-packaged, surprise-visited, texted, messaged, wrote, missed, cried, become extra creative, dreamed, reenforced and remained.  In 2010 they were able to fit in a candy, colored, cheerful "wedding" ceremony and reception.  Their friends and family smiled, and the sun made the day oh-so bright.  Before long, he was gone again.  But they worked to keep their love and hearts young, smiling and, yes, bright!
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And here there are, with resilient affection and grateful closeness.  David is officially a civilian.  They celebrated their anniversary together.  They painted ceramics, side by side.  (Hilarious ceramics at that: a garden gnome and Harry Potter coffee mug.  Cute nerd alert!)  You can see it in their eyes.
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The last four years have been beautifully long, and worth the sacrifices.  They are still, and calm.  Resting and united.  Still full of candyland spunk, with a seal of faithfulness and maturity.
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Happy Four Years.  I'm thrilled you are in person, under the same roof, celebrating together.  Well done, both of you.  Soak this up.

12.2.13

Red Dirt Home | Personal


Flashback: September 21, 2012

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The Design of a House by Wendell Berry
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"Love has conceived a house,
and out of its labor
brought forth its likeness
- the emblem of desire,
continuing though the flesh falls away.
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Love foresees a jointure
composing a house, a marriage of contraries,
compendium of opposites in equilibrium.
Let severeness be as dividing
as budleaves around the flower!
- woman and child enfolded, chosen within.
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This is a love poem for you -
among wars, among brutal forfeitures of time
in this house,
among latent fires and stillness,
among all that honesty must see,
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I accept and love you.
And our Baby,
precious and periled in her happy mornings,
whose tears are mine.
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Love has visualized a house,
and out of its expenditure
fleshed the design at this cross ways
of consciousness and time:
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Its form is growth come to light in it;
croulants, gardens,
are of its architecture,
labor its realization,
cities we have gone to and come back
are the prospect of its doorways.
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And there's a city it dreams of."

11.2.13

Giveaway Winner!

Phew!  You all sure know how to try for a prize!  What fun it was to read all the entries + count up all the votes :)  I really hate that part of giving something away... because I want to give the gift to everyooooone.  And it breaks my heart when "only" one can win.  Then I have to go into coach-Kristen-mode and not let the emotions get to me. 

SO.  After counting up ALL 638 votes.  We find ourselves using the handy-dandy True Random Number Generator Tool aaaaaand:
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Lucky Number Eight!  I was expecting something crazy like 234 or 551 or 391.  But nope!  It was number 8 :)     
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Congratulations Essie Jane - e-mail me your home address so I can get you your goods.  You're going to have FUN!

8.2.13

Red Dirt Life | Personal

"and drivin' down the road
i get a feeling that i should have
been home yesterday, yesterday"
country roads - john denver
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On the border of Logan and Lincoln County, forming the third point of a triangle with Meridian and Shiloh, is the forgettable "town" of Merrick.  The roads here are all numbered, not named.  780.  3300. 800.  105.  As orderly as geometry graph paper, the lines of the red dirt go straight, in both directions, for more miles than you could drive in a day.  Likewise for the cross roads.   God help the soul who gets lost out here (and don't worry, God does, through His friendly and blessed people who call these paths "home.")   The only memorable town trophy is the old school house.  It's been closed for decades, but the former students who live nearby (all grannies and granddads now) have a monthly town dance in the empty, square building.   If you happened upon the right lumpy lane, and knew where to stop, you'd see these trees:
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These trees look like the rest of the trees lining sunburned roads in Merrick (and Meridian and Shiloh and Frost and...).  But these trees our our trees.   Almost three years ago, long before he met me, my husband bought 25 acres of trees.  At one point the path through them had been cleared out, but spending almost two years in Maryland gave the grass and reeds ample time to reclaim their territory.  Behind these trees, about a quarter mile straight in, is the beginning of our house.   There is a concrete footing and foundation, as well as concrete exterior walls (I was there for that stage), with cut-outs for the windows and doors.  In a couple weeks, we're headed to Meridian, and we'll be passing the old school, and we'll pull up to these trees.  During our month long stay, we'll trample down most of that helpless but persistent greenery on the ground.   We've been saving for over a year - counting pennies, not taking trips we could have taken, waiting - and now it's time to put a roof on the house.   Caleb will spend 10-16 hours a day, nearly everyday, making this roof become real and not a drawing.  Early mornings, late nights, sweet rest, unexpected costs and satisfying progress are sure to be our story.

This was never how I imagined my first year of marriage.
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No, I wasn't exactly a Red Dirt Bride in my mind.  Before I met Caleb, I imagined staying in my outskirts-of-DC-location for a few years, and then maybe moving somewhere quaint down south.  South Carolina was the location of choice.  Beach, class, lower cost, East Coast (near route 95 and all the beloved cities who live up and down it - from Boston, New York, Philadelphia, DC, Charlotte, Charleston and on).  Close enough to not drastically change my photography clientele, but far enough away to change my world.  Close enough to spend long weekends with my family, but far enough to miss my birth city.  I also dreamed of quick California fixes.  The California coast is my favorite and best place in the whole world (well, that I've had the honor of experiencing so far.)  My mother and her family is from and still near and around California.  I have friends - so many friends - out there.  When I was still younger than 10, we moved out to San Diego for a year and a half.  It was the longest vacation I've ever taken.  I'm a summer girl, who craves a beach and tacos and fashion and a dry heat world.  I imagined that.
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But I met a red dirt man.
"... somebody with arms strong enough to rustle a calf and yet gentle enough to cradle his own grandchild... somebody to call hogs, tame cantankerous machinery, come home hungry, have to wait lunch until his wife’s done feeding visiting ladies and tell the ladies to 'be sure and come back real soon'and mean it... Somebody who’d bale a family together with the soft strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh and then sigh, and then reply, with smiling eyes, when his son says he wants to spend his life ‘doing what dad does.'"
He dreams of carrying on the family business he and his father and brothers began years ago.  He bounces in his seat, and gets flushed when he explains to me the plans for his, er, our, home.  We often nestle into bed and begin using our hands to "draw" a new idea we have.  Usually this turns into lights popping back on, and someone googling or doodling to "see" the idea better.  I made a few changes to his original plans - a woman's touch.  The kitchen has been moved and there are far more bedrooms now.  He's talked me into some ideas I didn't love initially (*ahem* stone, turrets *ahem*) and I've gotten him quite excited about acrylic chairs, glass and crystal, and bright and white over dark and "cabin-y."  Dark wood floors, wood-beamed ceiling and a white-exterior with black accents have been our chocolate fondue melting pot. 
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So we begin.  Living this life as "one," a Hollywood half-blood crossed with country wind and grit.  There is more preppy in him than he was aware of, and I've discovered there is more small-town in my heart than I had ever understood.  Our neighbor across the way, for example, plants two gardens every year: one inside his fence for he and his family, one on the outside of his fence, by the side of the road, for anyone nearby or passing-by who needs an onion or potato.   Every year.  Just to be kind.  Yes, there is room - much room - my heart for living life with people like him.  Caleb's favorite shoes are either his Cantor Low Ralph Lauren canvas sneakers, or his classic brown Sperry Top-Siders.

I love being changed, and watching someone else change, and yet somehow still retaining ourselves in the process.  I love being a Red Dirt Bride.  It's better than I imagined.

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Our road-trip to build the roof starts the first weekend in March.  We'll be cruising through country in my little white Corolla, and we'll live in Guthrie (the latest stop for the Mumford&Sons tour! What what!  "The biggest thing to happen to Guthrie since The Land Run.")

I'd love to meet new friends in the surrounding area.  E-mail or get in touch somehow if you're available to chat and hang-out during the month of March.   We can mingle at Hoboken!  Or if you'd like a photoshoot of some sort - I'm available for a few sessions :)  

6.2.13

Copious | San Francisco Photography


co·pi·ous: fullness, plentiful, rich
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"i'm very used to playing 'the tomboy' or 'the sarcastic cynic.' that's my go-to. playing 'the vulnerable of a real girl that's in real womanlike situations'? where it's romanticized? i'm a little nervous about that."kristen bell
Copious is for the people.  A friendly marketplace on the streets of www dot lane.  A familiar place, where you can buy and sell beautiful clothing and art, where you can make friends along the way.  Pinterest and Facebook and eBay and a lookbook all lumpshed into one.  "You are not alone!"  It's the place where you pass by, and look into a strangers eye's and say "Good morning!" instead of avoiding human interaction.  It's where artists can sell their thread creations, where Spring Clean can mean a few extra spending dollars, where your same-ol' same-ol' becomes somebody else's brand new inspiration.  It's where stories are told about clothes, and why people care about what they wear.
For this shoot, Copious pulled from it's closet.  They wanted to represent a group of girls, not necessarily from a specific city but from any place.  Miami?  Seattle?  Dallas?  New York? San Francisco?  A hard-working girl, a girl making her way in life, on a budget, but ready to impress.  Social, sharp and beautiful.  Walking out the door for lunch with her girls before the big presentation at the office.  Enjoying life, in her "brand new" Copious outfit - that fits her body, her personality and her flair. 
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