FINALLY >>> Unscripted Stories!
Friends, as with everything I do, my heart is in this. I would love to hear your thoughts!
I’m looking ahead with optimism, curiosity and an open mind for whatever is tossed my way.
Thanks for walking alongside me. 🤍
Words of inspiration at every place setting, a beautifully set table, women gathered to meet one another and swap stories. This was an evening celebrating the completion of The Embodiment Series by my friend, @tararogersphotography
The project is incredibly important to Tara, who began it as a way to focus on connection and deeper meaning in her work. As an observer this night, I could see how much it impacted the participants.
Most times, I’m dialed in on how to share an experience, but when I think about The Embodiment Series, I feel like this one isn’t mine to write about. I was a fly on a wall this night. I got to see the fruits of my friend’s labor - and it was emotional.
July 18th, Tara will have the series on display in the gallery at @artacademyofmilton . I hope to see you there, so you can fully grasp its meaning- Congratulations, my friend! 🤍
@maddiehockhome >>> Solo designer specializing in large scale renovation. How did she think she could best get her story across? >>> A branding shoot in an old one room schoolhouse. ✔️ 🤍
This day was one that I will always remember. It started with me driving my car into a ditch out front, and ended with the two of us laughing over cheesesteaks. In the middle of all of that was the magic you see here.
From the very beginning when we met in a cafe over coffee, I got Maddie and she got me. She describes herself as “Here for cool clients and homes that have a story.” FACTS. She values connection, storytelling, and she puts everything she has into everything she does….trust me, it shows.
Yesterday, I told her that I’m hitching my wagon to her star, and I meant it. Take me with you, Maddie, I can’t wait to see what’s next.
🏷️ #storytelling #brandingsession #unscripted #pennsylvaniaphotographer
I remember hearing that it only takes 2 generations to be forgotten. I’ve been thinking so much about time. How I want to spend it, who I want to share it with, and how many active years I have left. Giving my time and presence to others is my greatest love letter. I want people to feel seen. I want the photographs to tell a story - one that lasts - even 2 generations later.
Image of the lovely @veramadison08 during her senior storytelling session.
I’ve been working on something since January. In the quiet months without sessions, I sat under the blanket on my couch and I asked what I wanted the coming years to look like - to FEEL like. I let myself dream. I wrote it all down on scraps of paper and iPhone notes. I want to be able to take my business with me should I ever want to relocate. I want to take my time with clients. I don’t want to feel rushed. I want larger, meaningful projects that allow for longer periods of time to play in my personal life. I want a life and a career that is stable, sustainable, PEACEFUL. I think I have built an offering that reflects that…I decided to call it Unscripted Stories. This morning as I sit at my kitchen table, I’m feeling a bit paralyzed deciding how to unveil it. So this is the post from the heart before the post with the details.
I have taken photographs for families, individuals, nonprofits, small businesses, artists and large corporations. My approach has always been: They are all stories. I don’t want to niche down. I want to shoot on location (yes, I travel) and also have the option to shoot remotely. Let me highlight the small things that others miss or deem unimportant. And now >>> Give me the chance to add words to go alongside the images.
Unscripted Stories (your story told with emotional clarity and narrative cohesion) is a slow, story-driven collaboration for people who want their work, home, or their season of life to be seen with honesty and care. It can be kept whole, or broken down and used in multiple ways. Whether you are a single mom or a big business, the stories that resonate are the ones that speak to the heart… I can be that storyteller for you.
As I said, there will be more details to come, but you can check out for yourself today, live on the site.
Thank you for being a part of the story. Of MY story.
I’m going to create a book. Life changes and a pending move have prompted this. Right now, it will be just for me, but maybe in the end it will not be. I’m going to collect photographs and look through old posts, share stories. I’m going to artfully craft something meaningful and beautiful and tender. It will be about home. About self. About the journey.
What I need from you >>> Whether it be you sitting in this house, spending time with me and Lexie, or silently following from afar - If this place, if my words, if an image, if a conversation, if ANY of it has impacted you or meant something to you, please share that with me. Please comment or send a story or write a letter. Please share a pic.
I don’t know yet how I am going to piece it all together, but I know that in the end, I always do.
(Photo from our first spring here, when Amanda sent me home with daffodils)
I woke up this morning and it was still winter. Last week was a tease with sunshine and hiking and long walks in good company.
January slapped me with the word, “patience.” Allow the foundation to be built.
But now it’s mid-March. Patience is waning. I force myself out of the warmth of my bed and walk across the cold wood floor. I look at the post-it on the bulletin board with remaining year 46 goals: Use my passport, make biz more stable, love without fear.
I’m dreaming of walking along cobblestone streets in Quebec City. I want to do that, maybe for my birthday. And I know I can create enough stability to get me everything I need and everywhere I need to be - I know I can. The ideas haven’t come forth yet, but the completion of last year‘s list reminds me that anything is possible. I tell myself >>> things are happening that are out of my control, and things are happening that I cannot see yet - but there IS movement. Life doesn’t happen to me, it happens for me.
This winter has been a long one. I can’t wait for spring. I’m ready for green hills and forest walks. I’m ready for the trees on the block to be covered in flowers, and I’m ready for the daffodils by the front door to pop up. I’m ready to be inspired. I’m ready to take my camera everywhere and document all the things.
I need spring to show me the way forward, as it always does >>> reminding me that after the season of darkness, the season of light is here. I only need to follow it.
Photo from the Wheeland family session, last year.
Lexie and her best friend went to their middle school Valentine’s Day dance last Friday. Earlier that day, they raced up the stairs and filled a large bag with a flatiron, curling wand, brushes, combs, perfumes, make up, jewelry and shoes. Proclaiming they had a “schedule to keep” they bolted out the front door…It took them almost 3 hours to get ready.
I think about the little girl that I moved into this neighborhood and this house over 4 years ago. 8 years old, bouncing on the trampoline in the backyard with her friends in the dead of winter. Now, she is 13 and wearing heels. I wonder how old she will be when we leave the next place. I wonder how much of this season here, she will remember. I wonder what moments will stick. Maybe she’ll recall her 9th birthday, eating lemon cake, surrounded by the new faces on our block. Maybe she’ll look back on the yearly Christmas tradition we had with all of the neighborhood kids, making gingerbread houses. Maybe the memory that takes root will be February 20th, getting ready for the dance with her best friend - a friend that she made this year and lives only 2 blocks away. Actually, maybe the memories aren’t what she will take at all - she’ll take the friendships.
When we came to Harding Ave., I hoped we could stay a while. I hoped we would be able to adjust and find peace. I hoped I could afford to give us a life that looked and felt rich, even though I was not. Every year that passed, I wondered how I made it happen.
I wanted to give her everything. Looking at Lexie today, I think I have.
This hard, wonderful, beautiful life passes so quickly. Here’s to feeling and seeing every bit of it, deeply.
Lexie and I are moving once the school year ends. Our landlord gave us somewhere to live in the most trying of times. I was self-employed, with a very minimal income, but I offered 6 months rent in advance, and despite what I looked like on paper, I was gratefully told that I was the “right” person for the property. After 4 years, our time here is coming to a close, with plenty of time to process. Yes, we are staying local. Right now, all other details are being kept private.
You watched us pack up and move and build and grieve and ultimately settle into our home. You watched me plant the garden, let it die alongside the past, and then nurture it all the years following. My home became a symbol for growth and safety. It was everything I ever wanted and never knew I did. The love I have for this place and our neighborhood grew to become a focal point of my Instagram account. The couch with the big blanket, candles burning, and Gregory Alan Isakov always playing in the background became a place of healing for me and then became a place of healing for so many other people. The home healed with walls that held us in shared conversations, tears, laughs. All who came here felt safe and cared for. (I shared a cup of tea with my friend Jessie on a cold winter day and she exclaimed,”It feels just how it looks online!” ) And it healed on the page through photographs, words and video clips. You have all had a seat in some way or another at my kitchen table. And now we’ll do it, all over again, somewhere new, together.
Social media became my diary. A mixture of clients’ lives and my own. I’m doubling down and leaning into that. I’m working on 2 projects BTS, branching out to what seems like the next logical step for me: Photos along with stories told with emotional clarity and narrative cohesion. So I rebuild in career. And I rebuild in life.
There were two solid days of crying. It is painful, but I asked for this. I asked for more. This house was never meant to be the end for us. I have accepted that this is difficult, and also, that it is necessary.
Watch us tear everything down and begin the next chapter….The story continues.
A story is forming here in this place, where the analog phone still rings, and the overalls are set on the radiator to dry. Herbs hang in bundles from the ceiling in the kitchen, and the cobwebs in the barn are illuminated by stained glass. Everything is still, yet very much alive in that stillness.
A story is forming here in this place.
@appabig@barnandbriar
My 13 year old daughter sent me this text message last night after I shared something on my Instagram stories. She was worried that I would lose clients and friends, so we had a little chat.
Let me be clear, where maybe I was not before: I care about being on the right side of history. I do NOT care about followers or “Facebook friends” that are not an active part of my life. If I cared about such things, I would be working much harder to grow my Instagram account and I wouldn’t be choosy as to who gets to see my personal life via this platform. I don’t mind at all when I see my friend count or follower count get lower. All that means to me, is that a person who is not in alignment with my values has chosen to remove themselves. My work and my life is a reflection of who I am and who I choose to surround myself with. So, take this as an invitation to remove yourself, if you feel the need to do so. My business and my personal life will be better for it in the long run.
