Wherein the Author Has a Facepalm Moment

“A portrait is not made in the camera but on either side of it.” ~ Edward Steichen

I have to come clean. I have a confession to make. I have failed you.

Gentle Reader, the decision to blog was a difficult one. I struggled with it...for months.

You see, I'm generally a private person. I feel neither a compulsion nor an obligation to share the nittiest, grittiest details of my life. It's my life. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.

But then I had a facepalm moment.

I create portraits of people who want to express their identity, their mission, and their purpose.

I help clients connect with their audiences.

That connection begins by connecting with me. (If there's no relationship on either side of the camera, I've failed the client.)

The Client-Photographer relationship is about caring and sharing. It's forged by asking questions and listening to the answers. By being curious. By being genuinely interested in each client's story. By engaging in real conversation.

And it dawned on me ("Slow, but accurate," as my mama is wont to say), that posting all sorts of pretty portraits might create interest on your part, but it definitely fails to create any kind of meaningful relationship between us.

So, here I am, extending my metaphorical finger towards you. The pointer finger. Not the other one.

I want to connect with you.

To make that connection, I have to do my part to create a relationship "on either side of this blog".

I have to share things about me so that you can see me as a person first, then as an artist.

Here's to learning an important lesson, and to implementing the solution!

This blog is where I'll be sharing my love of quotes (I collect them like others collect coins); my thoughts (they run rampant, just sayin'); and my journey as a person and an artist.

I hope that you find it entertaining, educational, and empowering.

Hmmmm....maybe this won't be difficult at all.

~ Stephanie

I remember that day.

Our three oldest were sitting on the sofa, waiting for me to give the word that we were going to the library.

Our youngest was on my hip, leaning against my arm as I stared at the television.

I looked from the tv...to the children. Horror and innocence in a single glance.

In that moment, I realized that the world that I had grown up in---that I wanted our children to grow up in---was gone. And that we were going to have to make a new one.

I look at the images from that day and I relive the memories and the emotions. But, twenty-three years on, those memories have faded a bit. The emotions have, too.

I wonder if there will come a time when I won't be able to remember that day, and those feelings, without the help of photographs.

That's what images do. They're portraits of a moment in time, preserved for all time. Remembrances that live into the future.

So that I will remember that day. And so will our children. And their children, after them.

~ Stephanie