I take photographs, I’m not in them.
That used to be my truth.
Passionate about capturing moments, freezing beauty all around me, I have collected thousands of memories.
Treasures for my children and grand children to enjoy in years to come.
All present in photographs, but one.
Me.
As a little girl, I saw pictures in my mind. I’d hear a song on the radio and know how the singer should play it out.
I’d practice in front of the mirror… singing… enjoying being me.
I’ve always seen in pictures… I still do.
Then entered little foxes. Joy and confidence stealers.
You know them, you’ve encountered them too.
Children tease what’s different. Red is different.
So, I stopped singing. I stopped looking.
Not only did I stop enjoying, I exchanged that for self-loathing.
Years passed. While Jesus began healing broken places of my heart, that was one room left untouched.
Not due to His neglect, but my fear of what I’d find.
I kept trying to find acceptable bandaids.
Perfectionism.
Neglect.
Apathy.
He is patient, He is kind.
He slipped a camera in my hands and I began capturing beauty.
I’d photograph women and they’d cry in delight.
I’d cry too.
I got passionate about photographing them.
I squeal when I capture “that” moment.
Because I take great pleasure in freezing frame.
… and being a part of the unveiling…
leading to another’s personal discovery.
Victory.
But you can’t sell what you don’t own.
Pitching photography to women has to start with me.
Lead by example.
My heart has been healed.
I’m confident in my own skin.
Not perfect, but happy.
Not without room for improvement, but who doesn’t have room to grow?
Red is still different. But different is good.
So this blog post. My husband, and frequent second shooter, held my camera.
I directed. He shot. I edited what produced what I saw in my mind.
We are a good team.
This is me. Unashamed.
I believe EVERY woman should live in photographs.
Should have some photos that make other’s jaw drop.
Should make her feel beautiful.
Should remind her husband how lucky he is.
Should make her daughters want to “be like that” someday.
Should model beauty and grace for her sons.
She should enjoy being in her own skin.
She should claim a moment as her own.
And be captured.
It will come.
An awareness that time has left markers
of laughter, heartache, and age.
She’ll greet this with warm acceptance.
Because she can still remember when…
She was young.
She was bold.
She was photographed.
That, ladies, is why you need to live in photographs.
Now, I not only take photos, I live in them.
Here’s my moment (well about 10).
Be brave: claim yours too. (I can help.)
I wanted all of my photos to feel like old film. Timeless. Hence, the grain.
Our children were running around, so J was trying to keep them out of frame.
I’m trying to stay focused and not bust out Mommy face and keep them in line..
Then… he does what only he can…
Makes me laugh.
Why, what were you thinking?
Prepared for the blog, file compression causes significant quality loss.
But this image – I am so grateful for.
It will go up on my wall.
Celebrating all you brave women who step in FRONT of the lens.
And, I can’t wait to meet a whole set of new brave beauties.
With gratitude,
Kate
Location: Gulf Shores, Perdido Key, FL