The First Snow:: Michelle & Matteo
Toddler sessions never go as planned-- which is actually why I find them so fun. You can't go in with a plan and pinterest-visions dancing in your head, because toddlers have an amazing ability to throw all of it out the window; yet, what they come up with is usually much better anyway. Such was the case when I photographed Michelle and her son, Matteo.
It was the first snowfall of the season. Matteo was so intrigued by all the white fluffy stuff, that he couldn't stop bounding through it and then stopping to pick it up. Another challenge of this shoot was the fact that I had laryngitis at the time-- and my usual method for getting kids to smile at the camera involves making a ton of weird noises! Matteo was a pro though and would stop and flash a smile for me-- if I was quick enough to catch it. :)
We took a short break to warm up inside the Loussac Library. When doing sessions with kids, it's always helpful to have some sort of activity for them to do so they don't get bored. (As a teacher, I also LOVE the idea of the library shoot. Instilling a love for literature at a young age is something I can definitely get behind!) Michelle and I had to race around to keep up with Matteo-- he was so excited about all the books and electronic check-out machines!
I've known Michelle since High School, when we did theater together. I've seen her in many roles, but none as cool as her role as Matteo's Mom. There's something I'm in awe of in my friends who are raising tiny humans. There is so much love, and patience, and kindness. Every word and action carries so much meaning for these kids, and I see all of that beauty coming through the camera. And each shot restores my faith in humanity. (I know that sounds kind of cliche' and even extreme, but in light of world events lately, I think it's important to recognize these beautiful moments for their power.) It was an honor to spend the afternoon with these two and celebrate a powerful Mother-Son bond. Thank you for bringing so much love to the world!
The Evolution of Fish: My Love/Hate Relationship with Salmon
My first fish (unless you count a skunky pink from when I was 10 years old, which I don't.)
Fishing and I have not always gotten along. Growing up, my new-to-Alaska parents caught the fishing bug and spent the majority of summers dragging my sisters and me along riverbanks, gear in hand. There were the times we had to hike miles back to camp on empty stomachs after my Dad beached the boat or the many harrowing river crossings when they refused to pay for the Russian River Ferry. Today, I might consider these expeditions adventurous, but for a little girl who would rather pee her pants over a chance encounter with a bear while peeing in the woods-- fishing was an exercise in torture.
My sister and my dad, circa 1997.
It didn't help that I hated the taste of salmon. Therefore, every salmon caught represented another dinner that I would have to sit through, miserable and on the verge of tears while begging my parents for Mac & Cheese that would never come.
But something has changed for me now that I'm older. I am no longer terrified of enjoying the Great Outdoors and I've developed a love for living off the bounty of the land. Blueberries in the fall, herbs from the garden, and fish from Alaska's waters-- even if all of these things can be purchased for less time and money at Costco.
Last week I went dipnetting for the first time. The 4 AM wake-up call and boat traffic jams were a new experience, and one that I think I would gladly take over combat bank-fishing.
Another change in my fishing attitude came quite recently, when a great friend let us use her family’s Kenai cabin following our wedding. I finally understood why people described fishing as tranquil.
Except for the occasional boat passing by, we were the only ones on the river. Their property stretches right to the riverbank, and a speaker system plays music while you fish. It was actually quite relaxing, and even fun—though I’m sure it didn’t hurt that we put the leftover wedding keg right in the water to cool down.
My dear friend Sarah and her husband Tom joined us at the fishing cabin.
Fishing is fun when you’re catching them. Each tug on the line or net is a new burst of endorphins. But I think the lesson in fishing that I couldn’t understand when I was younger is that it is also fun when you’re not catching them. Fishing allows you to get outside... to take a break from the multitude of glowing screens in our modern lives. (Which was torture during my Sega Game Gear days.) It also allows for quality time with friends and family, who will develop closer relationships from close calls with fishing hooks and netting teamwork.
I think I will probably torture my future children with the same lessons. If we're lucky, we will have salmon to cook up at the end of the night. But if not, we will share our fishing tales over steaming Mac & Cheese.
Laments and Silver Linings
There are many difficult things about working my abnormal night-shift. (Namely I don't see my fiance' during the week and Pita Pit is closed before I'm hungry for dinner.) I pulled into the driveway after thinking the whole way home I had yet to take a photo for my "Photo of the Day" project. It was almost one AM though. If I hurried, I might be able to get a few words in with Tony before he was lost to the land of bizarre sleep-talking.
Just as I was beginning to spiral into a lament about all the things I hate about my job, Mother Nature stepped in. As always, she provides the most perfect silver-linings... and last night's was one of the most spectacular: The Northern Lights.
Shutter 1/30, f13, ISO 800
I took this photo without a tripod-- at least, in the traditional sense. I grabbed some political mailers and set them on the frosty lid of the garbage can to provide a dry base. Then set the camera on self-timer so as to not shake it.
I watched the light trails of green fade in and out over the mountains until my camera battery was fully drained. Then, an added bonus: Tony was still awake when I climbed into bed and excitedly told him about the light show in the sky.
Baby Loose on the Tundra
A happy baby on the tundra.
That pretty much sums up my photo shoot with Kruz and his mama, Mika.
I love the simplicity of baby shots in nature. Added hilarity that it looks like this little being who can't even walk yet is out exploring the great outdoors all alone. (It's the little things, folks.)
Kruz was a great sport and really enjoyed the bizarre squealing sounds my fiance' was making to get his attention.
More than Pumpkin Spice.
Fall has become synonymous with Pumpkin Spice Lattes and the latest fashion in chunky sweaters. I'm a huge fan of anything pumpkin-flavored and am always on board to pull out the cozy clothes, but fall is also my favorite season to take photos. I am always drawn to photos that have nice, popping colors- and with fall in Alaska, the colors are beyond rich.
See what I mean?!
1/60 shutter, f/5.6, ISO 100
This weekend, the Love of my Life and I took off into the woods behind our house for a nature walk. It was the perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon. We were on the hunt for mushrooms, which is a new hobbie for us-- but seemed like the natural progression for our foraging since we are both obsessed with berry-picking.
Tony with a nice-looking Birch Bolete.
1/60 shutter, f/4.5, ISO 160
The mushrooms were bountiful and the day glorious! (Save for the moment when our dog rolled in a pile of fresh bear poop. He was not too thrilled about the cold bath he got when we got home.)
1/2000 shutter, f/4.5, ISO 400
It's days like this that make me so thankful I live here-- and days like this that I must remember when it's -30 outside and I haven't felt my toes for what seems like weeks. The walk was invigorating, and it was fun searching the forest floor for mushrooms because we found so much more! I spotted a huge, furry caterpillar and lots of mushroom varieties that we weren't searching for.
Click to enlarge:
