Linda and Jay.

Charleston, SC

It helps tremendously when you have a photogenic city to photograph beautiful people. The "search" for a good place to shoot is
narrowed down to...well, everywhere.







We could not have picked a better day to shoot. It was a cliche really, birds chirping, convertible tops down, just enough breeze to gently kiss the wisps of our hair; not ruin it. We shot all over downtown Charleston, and a few in Mt. Pleasant. I LOVE when the couples I shoot know what they want out of the pictures, it makes my job easier, and much more fun. I simply kept my finger on the shutter and when the moment arose, snapped the picture. There was little directing on my part. Linda had each pose down to a science. We had the same eye. I would look at one spot and Linda was a half second ahead of me, "lets stop here!". click. click. click. Done. I may need to hire her. Jay was wonderfully patient. Men are much more photogenic than they think. His easy going attitude was wonderful to capture.

Few things rival the rapture of love. It holds its own story for everyone to bear witness and behold. Amazing that a four letter word could hold such power, and be so permeable to a human heart. Lately, or not so lately, there are the stories of broken hearts and lost love. It makes headlines, more often than the stories of ecstatic, goofy, pure, rock solid, and wonderful love. However, when one is a photographer, and one is in love...there are such things as rose colored glasses, or a rose colored lens. The world is still the same, but different. It is one thing to see a flower and define it as such. It is entirely another to see a flower and understand that for it to bloom and become what we see takes great strength and a little bit of faith. I would say love takes strength most of the time...and faith nearly all the time. But once its there, you never forget how it made you feel and you are thankful for the experience.

Big thanks and love to Linda and Jay for the complete experience of photographs, genuine laughter, and love. It shows...

.Ashley-ville.

Asheville, NC

When vacations present themselves, it never fails that a most interesting an memorable adventure is about to unfold. And at least one good scandal.


Cue Asheville, NC. Hotel rooms booked. Biltmore tickets purchased. Tire pressure checked. Camera, double check. Ready, and Go.


wait...wait... its missing something. This trip would have been insignificant if not for the company I kept.

There are few trips planned with little more than a 48hour notice. The dialogue is something along the lines of deciphering who has the same days off, how far can we drive, what to pack and when we leave.


This was the exception. It took a month of planning and requesting, pleading even, to get the right days in order. But in the end, seven girls ended up in Asheville. The ultimate vacation for hard working 20 somethings looking for a little bit of R and R.

We traded Charleston life for the mountain life; with absolutely no agenda. We stood agape a the threshold of the Biltmore House and thourougly enjoyed its wine tasting. There were nights of

Apples to Apples" and "Catch Phrase". Intense crossword
"puzzles, 49
across was the bain of my existence. Quite a stark contrast to previous trips that yielded nights into the wee hours, and sometimes til the sunrise. Don't be fooled, we did not disappoint. We left our mark in Asheville to say the least. This was my idea of the perfect trip. I was in the presence of some of the most wildly intelligent and beautiful woman, in a place that was foreign yet just as comfortable. We looked like a traveling band of gypsies. But you can't fool locals. If you travel in a pack of woman...you're bound to be categorized as a tourist. Luckily, we weren't trying to hide. We made some good friends by standing out.




The Asheville pace was one I could get used to. It had a Northern feel with its crisp air and lack of humidity. It meshed with the "Hakuna Matata" shoulder shrug of the south...some parts of the south atleast( depending on the circles one travels in). We could all do with a getaway of the Asheville-kind on a regular basis. If for nothing else to give us the chance to step back and watch the hands of the clock tick by, and not worry about the wasting of time, only the realization that we are using the time to our advantage. It was poignant reminder that it is precious and friends like these come few and far between. And if you're lucky enough to have the opportunity to travel with a band of gypsies, what on earth are you waiting for? We aren't ...

On Vineyard Time.

Martha's Vineyard, MA

" Some things simply do not translate.
You have to go to know."



If I were to describe Martha's Vineyard in one word it would be, magical.

After traveling to Europe and other various parts of the U.S. I suspected to find places with matched allure and beauty. And, not to be biased, but with the exception of the Amalfi Coast in Italy, I have yet to find one.


But the Vineyard and I have quite a history together.
One that draws deep sighs and fond memories from summers( and one winter) past. Each part of the island carries its own bit of charm.

At the first summer breeze, shoes come off ( permentantly), the salty brine lingers from the ocean, and I wish those scientists would hurry up with the invention of a teleporter. The Low Country heat starts to wear on me after a while.

Faithful Companions.

Charleston, SC

I recently learned of a friend who's dog suddenly passed. She was heartbroken. And is still struggling with the loss.

I always wanted a dog. I thought they were cute, snuggled with you when you were lonely, followed your every command, played fetch...etc. Faultless beings.

ohhh the mind of a child. so naive and innocent.

Once I realized the amount of time and effort that was required of a dog owner, I recanted my early childhood thoughts. Or reassessed them rather. I would liken the responsibility to having children; and I am illequiped for that stage of life. They pee, they poop, they bark when their hungry or when every single car passes by the window. They have to be scolded, rewarded...this already sounds exhausting. A close friend coined the ingenious phrase, "the pet and push". The gentle gliding of the hand over the dog's backside, while gently, but firmly, pushing the dog as far away as possible, without making it painfully obvious what you are trying to do. *insert fake, but believeable, smile here*.

Now, I have friends who have dogs; love dogs. Its perfect. I get to be like the "cool Aunt" or the fun older sister. I let them have extra treats and they get sit on the couch with me. And then let them scurry off with their rightful owner; my dog-fix acheived.

I still don't own a dog. Yet, I'm around them enough to respect, feel and understand the love the owner has for their faithful compainion.

I can only imagine my poor friends anguish. Every dog owner I know is used to the responsibilties of being a "Mom" or "Dad". But somewhere along the line it has become more than just the chores of feed, walk, poop, sleep, repeat. There is a unfathomable bond. And if you're the close friend, like me, a similar bond is formed. I have become the giver of treats at their best moments and the stern face for their "bad dog" moments. I experience genuine heartfelt feelings of sorrow when it comes to loss of a good dog. a good friend. Though, they pale in comparrison.

In the spirit of good dogs everywhere, and especially to Rhonda, here are just a few companions that make life a little more tolerable.

Tough Little Boys.

Real life moment #345602
Alpharetta, GA

I have to admit, if there was one stage of life I loved more than any other it was the ages between 10-13. There is a wonderful innocence surrounding it, in my experience. Its right about the time kids get interesting, and demanding...


Enter "Auntie Anne's Make Your Own Pretzel Kit".

I've been lucky enough to watch my younger sister and brother over the last week. I'm here just long enough to actually spend time with them, drive them to school, secretly bring them Subway sandwiches for lunch, cheer them on in their respective sports, and be witness to these kinds of real life moments. My favorite kind.

Sydney came up with the brilliant idea of the pretzels. At the whisper of "Auntie Anne's Pretzels", four 13year old boys flocked into the kitchen, expecting the finished product. No such luck. And here is where things got interesting.

The back of the box clearly states 4 simple instructions. Mix. Twist. Bake. Enjoy. Nothing too terrible. My brother, Vito, will never pass up a chance for a pretzel. So there they all were, reading the directions at the kitchen counter. Obviously perplexed. If not for Syd, and her expert directing and Pretzel knowledge the pretzels would still be in the box.

2 hours later.

Dean Martin is singing "Mambo Italiano" through the iHome. Someone requested "Pretzel Music" this is what I came up with. It seemed to satisfy everyone, they were singing.

The four easy instructions proved to be a little more work than originally planned. The actual making of the pretzels was the most entertaining. I almost missed the moment. I was watching four teenage boys, directed by a 15year old girl, pour baking soda and flour, mix and roll dough into strips ( which turned into whipping it around in the air), and MAKE pretzels. I think the boys amazed themselves.

I just sat back and watched these tough little boys ( and took pictures). So often I remember just trying to act "cool" or sneak by with no one noticing my awkwardness at that age. And I have watched them all this week go from talking to me and laughing to answering their cell phones, " Yo bro, sup?"; trying to make their voices sound a little deeper. It denotes coolness.


The finished product was a hit. No surprise there. And 9 pretzels were wolfed down in a span of 10mintues. I saw the moment wax and wane and they gradually fell back into their little boy stage of being cool and wrestling in the kitchen and chasing each other around the house. But it was there. I saw it.

Spring Forward

"We all run on two clocks. One is the outside clock, which ticks away our decades and brings us ceaselessly to the dry season. The other is the inside clock, where you are your own time keeper and determine your own chronology, your own internal weather and your own rate of living."

I Do. Cathy and Eric.

Matunuk, RI

I'm listening to Ray LaMontagne's " You are the Best Thing" for inspiration today. It just makes me want to dance...in the kitchen.

I love weddings. Who knew?! I spent a good portion of my childhood participating in them, which did not contribute to my love for them. Horrid little frilly, floral dresses, baby's breath in my hair, walking down the aisle with a white wicker basket, an empty one at that, NO flowers to throw and make the moment even remotely interesting. I wanted to run down the aisle like I was being introduced at the NCAA woman's basketball final 4. I remember thinking if this were MY wedding the kids could wear whatever they want, no baskets, and NO baby's breath. period.

I gradually came around. Once I got to participate in the "behind the scenes" aspect of weddings, I realized how much meticulous planning went into it. Even down to the baby's breath. The first wedding I ever photographed was an eye-opener to say the least. I fell in love with photographing people. Especially candid shots.

Emotion.
I could feel it in every breath of the Bride and Groom, and it was intoxicating. It filtered out into every guest, and they felt it to. One look, one lift of the eyebrow sent a tizzy of impassioned emotion through my lens. It buzzed and hummed like electricity and spread like wild fire. By the end of the ceremony I was wiping away tears, I couldn't see through the view finder! ohh I was a mess.

Now, before this wedding I thought I was pretty good at capturing emotional events and moments...That was before I shot Cathy and Eric. Since then, my photography has changed. I view the world a little differently (no tears to distort the view this time). I look for the emotion in all things. Whether it is someone expressing a certain feeling or what the subject strikes in me. A person, a child, an inanimate object can enchant the mind, almost bewitch it with one click of the shutter. I want you to look at my photographs and feel as though you were there. Or that it evoked some kind of feeling; at the surface or dark and long buried. At least that's the goal.


Thanks and big love to Cathy and Eric. Words don't do it justice.