Jenni Marie: Photographer

2010-06-18T14:44:00.003-04:00

Update! The blog is transitioning to a new home ... new posts are now found at jenniferpinkerton.com. =)

Bridal: Alisha

2010-06-05T19:35:00.003-04:00

Over a month ago, we had a rainy day. A very rainy day. We almost had to reschedule our shoot, in fact. But I had a plan...and Alisha was willing to trust me. So, there we were: a wedding dress, a bouquet of bright flowers, a pair of blue shoes, an entourage of family, and a bride ... with me...in the rain...trying to keep it all dry. We succeeded.

No wedding dresses or hair styles were harmed in the creation of these images.

:-P

(And she's finally married... as of 3 hours ago...so now I finally unveil her beauty for the online world!)

Waiting for Evie

2010-06-03T13:53:00.003-04:00

I stood in their kitchen, flipping through an unfinished scrapbook. Misti and Brian were getting ready to go head out the door and I had a few minutes to look at the pile of props on the counter. It was Evie's baby book. A story to her daughter, written by Misti before Evie even made an appearance into the world. I wish I could remember the exact words, but all I know is that there was a LOT of love, devotion, and excitement poured into that book -- with slots empty for putting Evie's first picture and pictures from the last days of pregnancy.

I could just imagine an adult Evie reading it, maybe before heading off to college...or getting ready to have her own children ... or just sitting on a couch with an aging mother, remembering. She'll have her Mom's curly hair, her Dad's chin, and be one beautiful woman. And there she will be...maybe wiping away a tear or two (like I did), reading how much her parents planned for her arrival and anticipated it with such longing and excitement.

Just a few more weeks and then the waiting will be over and Evie will be part of the family. Can you say: "excited!!!"? =)

Wedding: Jenna and Matt

2010-06-02T22:59:00.000-04:00

It was wedding day, finally. A flurry of activity. Frantic phone calls. Giddy bridesmaids. The bride was beautiful, as would be expected, and proceeded through the chaos with an ecstatic joy that could be marred by nothing. She was getting married and the glow was tangible.

The girls giggled, danced, primped, and sang.

The guys sat around pretending to be cool, but the suit jackets really weren't comfortable (no matter how dashing they looked).

The ring bearer and flower girl played on the winding stair case, caught between the incoming guests below and the bridal preparations above.

But in the middle of it all, there she was: getting married.

When the time finally came to put on the last minute touches and head down the aisle, Jenna was still a poised, serenely beautiful bride waiting for her groom. It was her bridesmaids, though, that caught the nervous butterflies.

"My stomach just flopped," said one. "I don't think I can do this!"

Another distracted herself by playing with the flower girl's basket, fidgeting with the handle and obviously wishing herself safely down the aisle without tripping.

And then it happened... it started...and soon it was over...

No one tripped, everyone said what they were supposed to ...when they were supposed to...and then they were married. Just. like. that.

But the fun had only just begun. The reception was party central, thanks to a fabulous DJ, a wonderful crew of decorators, and (my personal favorite) lots of pink.

And, yes, I finally witnessed an all-out, no-holds-barred, undeniably fun...cake smash.

(What you don't see is that mother of the groom somehow ended up in between their shenanigans as they ran around the room, wildly waving clumps of cake toward each other. And, yes, she got a face full of cake too.)

I left out the part about the way her dad looked at her as they headed down the aisle. O so sweet.

I didn't have a chance to tell you how I choked up and cried as the emcee told the story of their love, and how they made it from coworkers to married. Their endurance through the years and their triumph at finally getting married.

I guess I could tell you about the support network of friends and family that poured themselves into Jenna and Matt, and made the day that much more beautiful.

I can't forget the way Bryson looked at his mom and told her she's beautiful.

But all told, the point is that Jenna and Matt are married. And it was beautiful.

"You're so pretty, Mommy"

2010-06-02T22:46:00.004-04:00

Mommy! Mommy. Moooommmyy.

He was insistent. Almost whining, but full of words that needed to be said. And absolutely wouldn't give up. Mommy, however, was distracted. Being pulled in many directions, trying to keep her head on straight and succeeding very completely.

"What, honey?" The bride finally turned to listen.

"You're so pretty!"

He repeated it, and the bride melted. Wrapped him up in her arms, crushed him into her satin and silk, and enjoyed the moment with her son.

And that, folks, is what the ring bearer said to the bride.

Cheyenne and Alicia (Part 2)

2010-05-31T11:46:00.000-04:00

Where in this wide world can man find nobility without pride,
Friendship without envy,
Or beauty without vanity?
Here, where grace is served with muscle
And strength by gentleness confined
He serves without servility; he has fought without enmity.
There is nothing so powerful, nothing less violent.
There is nothing so quick, nothing more patient.
~Ronald Duncan, "The Horse"

My Sisterfriend.

2010-05-29T08:30:00.005-04:00

I don't understand how this has happened. I really don't. She's supposed to still be my baby sister. We're still sharing a room, fighting over the closet space, nagging each other to turn off the lights earlier (or be quieter in the morning). She's still writing me messages when we're supposed to be going to sleep. She's still annoying me with her massive collection of stuffed animals that spill over from her top bunk and end up on my bed. She's still forgetting to make her bed for days on end. She's still "Jo Jo" and she still sucks her thumb. She's still learning to read -- and impressing everyone with her ability. She's still out climbing trees and somehow weaseling her way out of doing her chores. And me? I'm still 10.

We're still working on schoolwork in the living room. We're still annoying Mom with our lack of diligence and inability to do school on sunny days. We're still playing Red Rover in the church lawn. We're still dressing our American Girl dolls. We're still just little girls.

Somehow, though, we're not.

Somehow, she is a successful harpist; the principal harpist for two (or three or four) orchestras, and selling her first two CDs. Somehow, she survived Algebra (quite successfully, even). Somewhere along the way, she grew up enough to get on an airplane to Greece and Poland -- without Mom or Dad. She's still painting, but this time they're actually good -- not just adorable. Somehow, she's driving herself around (and wrecking my car, but that's another story).

In some alternate universe, she's graduating from high school.

I'm not 10 anymore. And she is already 18. We don't share a room. She doesn't annoy me with her messes. She has a cell phone and a job. She calls to say "hi" and we hang out - because we don't get to see each other hardly enough. We're best friends, not just sisters. I feel old, but - wow - I am so proud.

Happy Graduation Day, Sisterfriend.

Cheyenne and Alicia (Part 1)

2010-05-27T09:51:00.004-04:00

When I showed up at the barn at 5:05, Alicia was confused -- "Were we supposed to meet at 5? Or 5:30?"

I like to be on time. Maybe even early. This time, I was 30 minutes early, thanks to my GPS and its inability to let me waste time getting lost. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get to the farm, so I added extra minutes to explore the area. No need. My trusty GPS got me right there, no problem.

But I was actually glad I was early.

Alicia didn't have Cheyenne brushed, saddled, or ready for her closeup when I got there. But that meant I got to watch the process from beautiful horse to beautiful horse! Beautiful, I tell you! =) Plus, watching them interact during that process proved to me that a horse isn't just a horse -- their friendship was almost more palpable than my sister with her dog. And no matter how much I can't comprehend that relationship between human and animal, I can most definitely appreciate it.

It Grows!

2010-05-24T08:19:00.000-04:00

Spring is nearly over. I realize that. In fact, summer is almost here. And - the worse part - I've had this bulb waiting to be planted since Christmas. (Thanks, Christina! :-P) But somehow, I never found time to actually plant it and let it start growing! Accctttuuuaaallly, the truth of the matter is that I kept forgetting to buy potting soil so I could plant it. Well, I finally got a bag of dirt (why do they charge money for that stuff?!?) and was ready to start growing green stuff.

But then: the Blonde Moment.

The gifted gardening set came with dehydrated soil. All I needed to do was rehydrate the soil, watch it decompress, and put the bulb in it. Umm. Yeah. I'm just that brilliant. (And - obviously - do not have a green thumb.)

So with an extra bag of potting soil sitting around, I planted the bulb and waited. For two weeks, I waited.

"Oh no! Did I kill it?"

"How am I going to explain this to Christina?"

"What if it never grows?"

"I'm a faaaaiiillluuurre!!!"

And suddenly? There it was. It popped up. And kept on growing. And growing. And growing. (At once point, I noted its height as I cleaned my living room, went to clean my bedroom, walked back through the living room...and it had grown. Yup. That fast. Or maybe my bedroom was just that dirty. I'll never tell.)

The above progression of camera phone pictures (thankyouMrDroid) were taken over the course of 24 hours. Yup. 24 hours. And its still growing. And I'm still marveling.

Time to go plant some more seeds...

In a mirror dimly...

2010-05-22T06:59:00.000-04:00

"For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known. But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love." (2 Corinthians 13: 12, 13)

Engaged: Nick and Abby

2010-05-21T08:10:00.002-04:00

Fact: when most people think "engagement pictures," they do NOT think the basement of a parking garage, wedged between a black SUV with heavily tinted windows and a very thick concrete wall, including obligatory graffiti. And, for honesty's sake, Nick and Abby probably didn't envision that either. Or maybe they did. But the point is: I did. And, since I am bossy, I lived up to my name and we did it.

(Okay, okay. So I suggested it...and they liked it...so we did it. I. Am. Not. Bossy. Seriously, people! What gave you that idea? *smirk*)

But what do you expect? Last summer, Nick introduced me to Burn Notice (and I still haven't forgiven him) with a daily countdown to the season premiere. Abby has seriously mean acting skills, obvious in college film projects. And, together, they strike me as very efficient espionage types. Throw a little love in the mix, and here comes the drama.

Oh, oh. And did I mention that when Nick and Abby saw these, they gave me some of the best compliments ever?? (I like compliments. Keep 'em coming, folks.)
"Exponentially better than I hoped/imaginedAnd I was already prepared to be blown away.The pictures are amazing

You are amazing

We art amazed"

Senior: Allie

2010-05-20T07:32:00.001-04:00

All day, it was threatening to rain. Well, actually, it did rain...leaving me a little concerned how my evening was going to go. But, I had a plan and once I made sure Allie was on board with a little improv, I created two shoot schedules: one with rain, one without rain. Even as we started shooting, I didn't know whether I'd be dealing with rain or not. But I wasn't worried. Hey, if I can shoot a bride in pouring rain and not get her wet but still come up with beeeyoootious pictures, surely I can do the same for Allie. (And in case you're wondering, I'm anxiously waiting until I can unveil that bridal beauty; 15 days and counting.) But we didn't get wet. Not at all. In fact, for a few minutes, the sun even peeked out a little bit. But then it got all shy and snuck away again.

But, hey, who needs sun to have fun? Ever heard of Singing in the Rain?

Oh! And if you're a rising Senior and want to be a Senior Rep, you should email me or call (336-793-6622) - you get a photoshoot and then fun gifts when you tell you friends about JenniMarie.com. Yup yup. You know you wanna model. Yes, you do. :-P

Wedding: Michael and Hannah

2010-05-18T07:20:00.001-04:00

When I shot Hannah and Michael's engagement pictures, I knew their wedding would be a sweet, sweet celebration. But somehow knowing something and experiencing it are two separate things altogether. And, yes, I was right: it was a beautiful, wonderful, gracious celebration.

While Hannah -- the picture of radiance and calm assurance in the face of her special day -- finished getting ready and spent time with her parents, Michael bounced around Ida Lee Rec Center, waiting for his bride. He played with nephews, greeted friends, tried to breathe, and - finally - sat down, to catch his breath and wait for his gal. But he couldn't sit for long. He was a bundle of energy, anxious to see his bride.

I know, know, know that every groom is in awe of his bride, marveling at her beauty. But Michael? When he finally had Hannah by his side, he quite literally could.not. take. his. eyes. off. her. Even - later in the day - while she was greeting friends and he was receiving congratulations, he was always and keenly aware of her; never leaving her side, never tired of watching her.

And then, ceremony time. Finally. There they were, surrounded by their closest friends and family.

I don't know if the guests could see and feel their moment, but as Michael and Hannah stood -- a mere six feet away from saying their vows -- and sang "In Christ Alone" with their guests, their joy was more than just a smile, or a glance. I can't even really describe it. But as they stood in awe of their Savior and in love with each other, their love was tangible. And, let the record show, Michael could not take his eyes off her.

And then it was time for the kiss. The kiss, the giggle, the embrace. In that order. And - oh my - so so so sweet.

(This just makes me laugh: Michael wanting his bride, maid of honor trying to fix her veil, and the guys...just being guys.)

(And you should've seen Michael's panicked look when they took away "his" cake to be cut the rest of the way... "That's my cake," he mouthed frantically.)

P.S. After they were announced to the world as husband and wife, Michael and Hannah walked out to the patio and Michael stole a few more kisses from his wife. As the wedding party walked toward them - and before they gather around for celebration - Michael grinned at Hannah. "I like your lips," he announced to her and the world. "Usta!"

Love in the Spotlight

2010-05-17T07:47:00.001-04:00

In the the interest of full-disclosure, I must say that Nick is a self-described fan of my work. A big big big fan, in fact. I receive angst-filled GTalk messages if more than a couple days pass between blog posts. And harsh scoldings if I procrastinated or failed to deliver known shoots to the online world promptly. And loud complaints if I don't post enough photos for him to enjoy.

So, when Nick messaged a month ago asking if I knew of any good places for engagement photos, I knew two things: a) he was backhandedly informing me that he'd finally asked Abby to marry him, and b) the pressure was ON.

And now I'm starting my timer: how long will it take for Nick to notice that his picture is on the blog?

The Red Converse

2010-05-15T08:48:00.000-04:00

I don't own a pair of Chuck Taylors. Or Converse. And I definitely don't know the difference between the two (if there is one). But I'll bet Google.com could tell me. In fact, I'll bet Google would sell me a pair of either...or both. (And, yes, I am well aware Google is taking over the world. And, in fact, my recent purchase of a *cough* certain cell phone *cough, cough* has meant Google has taken over even more of my life. And I am quite comfortable with that fact.)

In case you're wondering, though, I now am coveting a pair of red Converse. Or Chucks. Whatever the difference. But I definitely want them to be red. Or pink. Pink would work, too. And its all Elizabeth's fault. I blame her entirely.

The Ford Mustang and Jaron

2010-05-14T07:47:00.003-04:00

What we have here is a case of half Senior pictures, half modeling session, half Jennifer-experimenting-with-lighting. (Oh, and three-quarters "Jennifer doesn't do fractions".)

I'm not sure which is more amazing: the vintage Ford Mustang that is Jaron's pride and joy (or at least that's how it seems to me), the fact that he was willing to find a pair of his dad's amazing suspenders and put them on, or the seriously amazing hat he pulled out of his closet. Whatever the cause, hanging out with Jaron and three ridiculously amazing cars was...amazing. :-P

I know, I know. I really should use a word besides "amazing," but it takes too much energy to come up with anything that more accurately describes the amazing shoot this was; besides, when I use flowery descriptive words, I am usually met with a blank stare and "what does that word mean?" from my listener. So, I think I'll stick with "cool" and "umm" and "duuude" from now on.

(And in case you're wondering, ummm, the rest of the cool cars will make their debut. Soon. Promise. Duuuude.)

Senior: Jessica

2010-05-13T23:34:00.001-04:00

What makes a good day for taking Senior pictures in Winston Salem? Is it the weather? The location? The outfit? Is it an emotional - "today feels good" - decision? Is it objective? Or subjective?

Call me cheesy, but I think any day I get to spend with my camera is an automatically good day. =D The past couple weeks have been a proverbial "calm before the storm" -- its been busy, but in a less chaotic way than March and April were. Now I'm bracing myself to start a series of non-stop wedding weekends. [insert deep breath here] But, in this calm time, my camera time has dwindled a little; working on web sites, miscellaneous projects, etc, and my camera has been abandoned.

Oh, and somewhere in the chaos, essential tools of my trade have broken (i.e. car and phone) and required fancy footwork, extra cash, and practice in living-without-the-necessities. Ah, the fun.

Jaron's Car

2010-05-10T21:57:00.002-04:00

So how do you spend your Monday night? I spend it hanging out with three of the coolest cars ever and one very obliging model. Quite perfect, in my opinion. You should be jealous.

Engaged: Jenna and Matt

2010-05-05T17:37:00.003-04:00

I'm not sure I will ever get tired of hanging out with people who are in love. I mean...seriously! How fun is it to watch two people laugh together when you know they're preparing to spend the rest of their lives laughing together? Yup. You guessed it. TONS of fun.

Jenna and Matt did laugh a lot together. And, um, they made me laugh, too. Especially when they started mocking Olan Mills and doing the cheesiest poses they could possibly think of. Yup, you guessed it... the hand under the chin and goofy smiles. Man, I'm glad I don't have to rely on forced smiles!

Plus, the cutest stuff from my afternoon with Jenna and Matt is yet to come. You'll like. Promise.

A Night At the Beach

2010-05-01T19:55:00.004-04:00

That's me.

I was on the beach.

For less than two hours.

Don't ask.

During those two hours of blissful beach time, I made a new goal for my life: do a shoot on Wrightsville Beach (wedding preferred).

No, that is not a new goal. In fact, that's a long-standing goal; inspired by a good friend of mine last summer. But the new goal is that I need to shoot said wedding at the Blockade Runner Hotel and Beach Resort. Not only is it oceanfront, it also has a beautiful garden with brilliant flowers. Pluuus, the lobby is a fine mix of beach and high-class. An impossible combination, and done with style.

And before you judge me for all the self-portraits, please remember that I am a people photographer and was on the beach with no people to photograph. Unless I walked up to random strangers and asked them to model. But I didn't.

Engaged: Heather and Aaron

2010-04-29T08:45:00.001-04:00

It was the sweetest of things. Aaron grabbed Heather and pulled her close -- knowing full well, of course, that the camera was watching him. I think he was trying to show off. He had claimed her. Wooed her. Sent yellow roses. Put a ring on her finger. Made her happier than seemed possible. And now, he wanted to show it off. Watch out, world! Check out what I can do.

"Oh, honey! You missed!" Heather giggled. (But, let the record show: she glowed.)

"What?!" Aaron wasn't teasing here. He had laid claim and she was just giggling. I think he was a little confused.

"That was my nose, not my lips!"

(Personally, I hope he figures out the difference before their June wedding. Just saying.)

When I showed up at Heather's house before we started shooting, she had one box of shoes, one box of accessories, a pile of shirts, and three dresses...all waiting for my "expert" opinion and "executive" decision. I made something up and hoped it would be beautiful. When she pulled out three makeup bags of lipstick and asked me to choose a color, though, I almost dealt with an emotional meltdown. Lets just say that suddenly I felt like something less than an expert; the options were way overwhelming, even for the usually decisive me.

P.S. Instead of calling me bossy -- like Troy and Jeremy both did -- Aaron complied admirably; his wife-to-be, however, called me "adorably weird." I choose to take this as a compliment.

Andrew

2010-04-27T21:30:00.002-04:00

Give me two years.

Or, rather, give Andrew two years. In two years he'll be getting a writeup in some business journal for some prestigious award; in two years I'll be taking the photos to go along with the article. In two years, folks. Two years.

We met up to do a quick round of head shots, but thanks to unexpectedly cleared schedules we had time to experiment ... and branch outside of the typical head shot setup to enjoy some more artistic fun; in which I told Andrew what to "channel," he "channeled," and we all laughed.

But as we laughed, I was also reminded of a very important fact: changed plans can mean better plans.

See, we were originally scheduled to have a mere 30 minutes for the shoot. Trying to coordinate two busy schedules, that was the way it had to be. But then that changed. Unavoidable scheduling conflicts and fickle weather got in the way and forced a reschedule. The second time around meant we had extra time to shoot. Obviously a good thing, right? But I'll admit it: at first, I didn't think so; I wanted to be grouchy and mad at the weather and it just didn't make sense why we'd have to delay.

In life, plans change. That's a fact.

Take me, for example. A year ago, I would've never, ever imagined I'd be where I am today. In fact, I had an entirely different plan in mind. And when the plans changed quite dramatically, I thought I'd shrivel up into a raisin because nothing seemed as good as that plan. But, ummm... newsflash: I. Was. Wrong. This is waaay better. Those changed plans mean that I am now realizing drams, smiling a lot, and enjoying a life better than I could've possibly imagined a year ago. I'm being thrown opportunities that my brain cannot even comprehend. And - wow - this is fun.

Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen. (Ephesians 3:20)

And finally...your turn to laugh...

Engaged: Amanda and Jeremy

2010-04-27T08:02:00.002-04:00

In a perfect world, I'm able to scout out locations for a shoot, evaluate lighting, choose any props, visualize poses before showing up to meet my friends for a shoot. However, I don't always live in a perfect world. (No duh!) But, in a beautiful world, the bride knows exactly what she wants and picks out locations, outfits, and props that reflect her, her groom, and their life together.

When I met up with Amanda and Jeremy for their engagement pictures, it was the first time I'd seen them as a couple. (Not ideal, I know, but that's what I get for living a couple hundred miles away from them.) My perfect little world was rudely interrupted by unknown terrain, a never-before-visited town, and a tight schedule on a busy weekend.

But.

[drumroll please]

Amanda. is. amazing.

She not only picked out the most beautiful, photogenic - and meaningful - locations that I can possibly imagine, but she also chose outfits that reflect them perfectly, brought the dogs along for pictures, and kept poor Jeremy quite cooperative (its not always the easy life, living in front of the camera; even I know tha t).

Oh, and their wedding is going to be amazing. It involves and outdoor ceremony, family heritage, farm life, and one amazing bride (and her groom, of course).

This is life.

2010-04-26T06:25:00.001-04:00

(I'm dedicated to my art. Or something like that. Don't judge.)

As odd as it sounds, I haven't had much time to think lately. For the past couple weeks (or longer? I can't remember -- the days are all blending together), I have been up way too early and to bed way too late. The hours between sleeping, I spend in a flurry of work, to-do lists, dishes, laundry, phone calls, emails, meetings.

My evenings are filled with shoots, client meetings, and photo processing. My mornings are focused on maintaining sanity in my home (I don't cope well when Hurricane Jenni has attacked and not cleaned up after herself) and sanity in my mind (the all-important gym date and the subsequent endorphin high). My weekends are more shoots. Somewhere in there I hang out at church, play with 2 year olds in the nursery, occasionally see my family, try to keep up with my friends, read books, try new recipes (when I have enough time to actually cook), go grocery shopping.

"What happened to my life?!?!" I wailed a couple days ago, momentarily turning into the whining seven year old I had supposedly matured beyond.

Then.

It hit me.

This is my life.

No, no. Read it again.

This. is. my. life.

And - get this - I'm loving it!

All too often, I find myself waiting for the next big thing, putting my life on hold until happen. I forget Jim Elliot's motto: "Wherever you are, be all there. Life to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God." Instead, I echo "Tony" from West Side Story.

Could it be? Yes, it could.
Something's coming, something good,
If I can wait!
Something's coming,
I don't know what it is,
But it is Gonna be great!

But to what avail? If I live in the future, its never going to happen. If I live in the past, I'm never going to go anywhere new. I'd much rather shoot at the stars and land on the moon; none of this lackadaisical existence for me. Its like my Mom always reminded me: "Aim at nothing and you'll hit it every time."

So here's to living in the moment, dreaming big dreams, and loving the life God has given.

Senior: Alison

2010-04-25T21:50:00.003-04:00

Fact: boys are weird. The end.

[deep breath]

[lets it out]

However, if you are a boy and if you are reading this blog, then I assume that you are at least a little bit not-weird. Maybe you even have moments of sanity. And DEFINITELY you would NOT have a moment of insanity such as Alison and I encountered this weekend.

And if you have ever had this type moment of insanity, then you need seriously counseling. Or let us slap you. Or something.

Serious.

See, on a street corner in Winston there was a wimpy white car with its windows open and music blaring. Stopped at a stoplight, it was full of boys, watching us take pictures and yelling at us.

Yes, yelling.

And if they had done some sort of complimentary (but altogether demeaning) wolf whistle, it would've been slightly acceptable.

However.

They.
Did.
Not.

"All your pictures are going to be ugly. Quit trying!"

Boys. Are. Weird.
The end.

(And altogether dumb. But keep reading and you'll understand why: she's gorgeous!)

The Ballerina

2010-04-25T07:09:00.000-04:00

I never did take ballet lessons when I was a little girl. And no gymnastics for me. I am the stereotypical klutzy gal who has two left feet when it comes to graceful moments. In fact, I was petrified of my college graduation, convinced I would be the one to fall flat on my face while walking up the steps toward my college chancellor and my diploma. (I wonder if I would still be a graduate if I didn't walk across the stage???)

I've come to terms with my clumsiness. Its part of who I am. I might as well embrace it, right?

But that all changed when I got to spend the morning with Hannah and her iPhone jukebox at the ballet studio. I had more than a few twinges of jealousy: "If only I were that graceful!" But, alas, that will never be.

But, hey, God has gifted each of us in unique ways: Hannah expresses beauty through dance and I try to express beauty through photos, eh? I'll stick with that. =)

Thinking, Dreaming, Musing.

2010-04-21T17:15:00.000-04:00

"Have you any unfulfilled dreams, Anne?" asked Gilbert.

Something in his tone made Anne's heart beat wildly. But she made her answer lightly.

"Of course. Everyone has. It wouldn't do for us to have all our dreams fulfilled. We would be as good as dead if we had nothing left to dream about."

(Anne of the Island, Lucy Maud Montgomery)

Engaged: Michael and Hannah

2010-04-21T06:55:00.001-04:00

Cold, windy, and -- I'll admit it -- rather miserable don't make for an easy day for a photo session. Its even worse when your photo's subjects ought to be looking comfortable, lovey dovey, and warm and fuzzy...and instead are glaring at you for making them standing the cold wind.

I, the photographer, can bundle up to stay warm and it doesn't matter if I'm waddling around under three pairs of long johns and a couple coats. But that doesn't work for being in front of the camera.

Don't get me wrong. It wasn't that cold (it is April, after all!). But let me be dramatic. Because I want to be. So there. Harrumph.

But who needs a fleece jacket and mittens when you've got a hand to hold and an arm around your shoulder, right Hannah? And, Michael, when you have warm fuzzies, why would you need to wear a coat?

Hannah and Michael are -- in case you couldn't tell -- fully in love. The way she lights up when she looks at him. Their way of sharing a smile. And, yes, their ability to communicate without saying a word. Its all proof.

Its so real, so raw, so beautiful.

And their wedding next month is going to be a sweet, sweet celebration. Of that I have no doubt.

800 miles of Nutella

2010-04-19T23:06:00.002-04:00

Eight hundred miles in 2.5 days seems excessive. In fact, it IS excessive. But that's what I did this weekend. Eight. Hundred. Miles. Its a good thing my little Honda is nice to me, otherwise I don't know what I would do.

What wasn't so excessive about my weekend, though, was spending time with three of this summer's brides -- and their men, of course, who obliged all of our creative whims and put up with the giggling, laughing, kissing, smiling, and lovey-doveying quite admirably.

Hats off to you three. Seriously.

Plus, I hung out in a ballet studio with a ballerina. How cool is that? Me, my camera, a ballerina and her iPhone. She danced, I shot. We laughed. I experimented.

Yes, I did say "experimented." I played around with my lighting equipment and tried some new techniques. Including self portraiture in a room full of mirrors. (Laughing at me, yet? You totally should.) The problem with the picture below, though, is that I didn't actually fire the flash. The room was so bright and happy, I didn't need the artificial lighting. Oh the irony.

And, finally, if you haven't eaten Nutella...you should. I bought two jars of Nutella to give to away this weekend...and ended up only giving one away because I, um, *cough*, got hungry mid-shoot one afternoon and simply had to eat.

So.
I.
Ate.
The.
Gift.
Nutella.

Is that better than giving a gift and then taking it back? Or is it worse? I can't decide. My guilt, however, is excessive. And if said friend figures out she didn't receive her Nutella...not really sure what I will do. Maybe I'll appease my conscience by buying her a bracelet instead? That would work. Maybe. Hmmm. Still processing whether that works. Is jewelry as good as Nutella? Or not?

By the way. Driving 800 miles in one weekend with a jar of Nutella next to you isn't a smart idea. Unless you plan on eating lots of Nutella. In which case, its a completely legit roadtrip companion. The end.

The Browning Family

2010-04-16T07:53:00.001-04:00

Best idea EVER: get all the adult children in one place, coordinate outfits, take pictures. On initiative of the children. Without Mom nagging. Or Dad forcing. Or photographer waving squeaky toys. No tears. No bribes. No temper tantrums. I'm not saying everyone was always cooperative, but its the principle of the matter.

So when Rachel emailed me, wanting to do this for her parents, I was excited. Very. Very. Very excited. (And if I have any insight into parents-of-adults, I'm assuming their excitement matched - or exceeded - mine!)

And here are the pictures. Proof of what happens when kids grow up, stop whining, and start smiling.

Cooperating

2010-04-15T07:20:00.001-04:00

The jury is still out: does being uncooperative come naturally for Daniel, or does he work at it? Was he being especially "uncooperative" because he wanted to be...or did I (the photographer) just happen to catch him in his natural state, because I'm just that good?

I mean, goofy isn't bad. In fact, I like goofy. Goofy, if real, shows personality and charisma. (Example: the above moment between Daniel and his brother-in-law Dave.) But please note the glare of death lurking behind those green eyes. This boy was going along with the flow so that he wouldn't rock the family boat (this was, after all, supposed to be a memorable and positive experience for the family history books)...but he wasn't going to go without a fight.

But, see, even though Daniel wasn't the most helpful participant in photo-time-with-Jennifer, I consider myself a resounding success as I prove that I eventually broke past the "I'm going to be as ornery as possible" attitude and proved to him - I hope - that picture time isn't painful and Jennifer really is a good photographer.

The Purple Van

2010-04-13T07:56:00.001-04:00

I don't think my favorite color was ever purple, in all my days of fluctuating favorites. I went from pink to sky blue to sage green to black to pink. Emphasis on the sage green. (When I was 11 I was convinced my first car would be a sage green convertible Volkswagon Beetle.) Then it hovered over pink (from light pink to hot pink to light pink to hot pink) and finally settled right there, somewhere in the fuchsia category.

But if I were going to change my favorite color -- or if I even felt the need to pick a favorite color; now that I'm a little older, that question doesn't get asked as much as it did in elementary school -- I might just pick this very color of purple. And then I'd buy this van. Because I'm just that cool.

Plus, life is infinitely more romantic in a Volkswagen. As evidenced by the little heart melt happening right about now as we look at Rachel and Dave in front of a VW.

[Memo to the prospective suitors of the world: if you wanna impress the J-Pink ,take her for a drive in a convertible VW. Just saying.]

This made me laugh, so I'm sharing it:

P.S. Sometime during my life -- maybe when I'm 80? -- I'm definitely going to buy this car. Just because.

Fire

2010-04-12T23:51:00.003-04:00

I was kinda sleepy, definitely cold, and desperately wanting to get home. It'd been a long day. Work, appointments, bridal shoot, family time, and my estimated "home by 9" had come and gone...two hours ago.

So when I saw the cloud of smoke coming from the general direction of my office, I didn't really want to investigate. I wanted to turn away from it, go home, and sleep.

And, in fact, as midnight fast approaches, I desperately long for my pillow. But, instead, I type. Too wired from watching a building burn down to really think about sleeping.

No, it wasn't my office building. But, yes, it was a couple hundred yards from my workplace. A big, billowing cloud of smoke where Taco Bell used to be.

I think I was 8 when a family in my church had their house burn down (not really for sure on that even happening -- I'll have to ask my parents), but ever since I had an inordinate fear of building fires. Not exactly helped, in this situation, by watching firefighters break the glass in the drive-thru window while other firemen worked the hook and ladder truck from a hundred feet in the air. The entire area had been evacuated, but I pulled out my camera and tried to get close enough to show the smoke and water and flames and hardworking men.

I don't guess we'll be eating Taco Bell anytime soon.

Engaged: Troy and Stephanie

2010-04-11T21:39:00.005-04:00

When I hung out with Troy and Stephanie, I found out that I'm bossy. Me? Bossy? Sheesh. What a wonderful, spectacular revelation. Gotta love it.

And the worst part? Troy was only sharing what our mutual friend Ray (and the groom in one of last summer's wedding) had warned him about me.

What a greeeat reputation you've built for me, Ray. Just greeeat. Thanks. Seriously.

Naw, I'll forgive Ray eventually.

And as to Troy and Stephanie...they were way too much fun. Despite the fact that Troy would never smile (ha!) and kept trying to hide his eyes with his sunglasses (hm), they obliged all my requests and crazy notions with amazing patience.

(By the way: its only because of a certain someone's lack of cooperation that I have to be "bossy" -- if that's what we have to call it. Just saying.)

Their wedding in October is going to be a blast. I was already excited, but especially so when I heard some of the design ideas Stephanie has for her big day. Lets just say the colors are grand...and the guy's outfits are going to have a spectacular twist that will be waaay too much fun. (Do we reeeally have to wait another six months?!)

And that, my friends, is what I did one afternoon at Tanglewood Park with Troy and Stephanie. =)

Painting the Town.

2010-04-09T17:30:00.000-04:00

Not too long ago, we celebrated google day in Winston Salem. But before me and my fellow conspirators got around to painting "google" on the side of our old truck, we had an old-fashioned paint fight. Well, the only reason its old fashioned is cuz I said it should be. There's nothing old or fashionable about this.

Jake and Ash - Part 2

2010-04-08T22:05:00.000-04:00

As the lighting changed, so did the mood. And as the mood changed, so did their clothes. Well, actually, I made them changed. But that's beside the point.

Here is part two of Jacob and Ashleigh.

Jake and Ash - Part 1

2010-04-07T23:25:00.001-04:00

Jacob and Ashleigh aren't the most patient people in the world. Or, rather, their impatience is so perfectly synced that they seem to be twice as impatient as most.

Within two hours of each other, I got a text from Jacob and a facebook message from Ashleigh.

"When will we get our pictures?!" they demanded.

Well, okay, in their defense, their pictures are good and I can't blame them for being anxious to see more of them than the sneak-peek link I'd sent their way.

And, too, they weren't ACTUALLY demanding their pictures impatiently. They were just clarifying where I'd be sending their disk.

But still.

The fact that they both emailed me - independent of each other -- is pretty impressive.

And now I'll quit typing. Cuz I'm tired. And ought to sleep. But really want to share these pictures. And can't wait to hear what you think of them.

But - oh! - one more little story. Here we are taking pictures in a less-than-attractive area of town and a random person came walking down the street, on the other side.

But then.

He crossed over to our side, for no apparent reason, and that was just a little sketch. No, I must clarify: it was really sketch.

So - as casually as we possibly could - we ([cough] I) pointed out a [insert dramatically loud voice] "fun location" on the other side of the street and crossed over.

Being the ever-prepared boy that he is, Jacob pulled out his pocket knife and had it ready - just in case - to protect his two girls, but our unidentified wandering man stayed away.

Annnd...since some of you [cough, cough] have been complaining about wanting to see more pictures from each shoot? Want more pictures? Cuz I'll let you have more. Promise. These are just too fun not to share. :-P

Duncan the Dog

2010-04-07T08:10:00.001-04:00

I recently found out that one of my friends lets her dog sleep in her bed. Another friend kisses her cat goodnight. Another gal has more-dogs-than-I-can-count. These people get mushy gushy when spending time with their canine best friend. Baby talk, cuddles, and inside jokes abound...even if the dog is only a dog and never answers back.

To me, a dog is a dog. Nothing more. Nothing less. Over the course of my life, though, I can admit that I have met 3 dogs who made it past "tolerate" status and on to "appreciate."

Most recently, that dog is Duncan.

Maybe its because he's so white and fluffy and cuddly. Maybe its because he looks a lot like the stuffed animal I've owned since I was four (yeah, we're talking a couple decades of existence). Maybe its because he can do some seriously amazing tricks. (The "Jack Bauer" move is by far the most ingenious dog-trick I have witnessed.*) Or maybe its because he didn't bark my head off.

Or maybe its just because.

Yup. That's it: just because.

*In case you're wondering about the Jack Bauer trick: if you make a "gun" of your thumb and forefinger, point it at Duncan, and say "Jack Bauer," this little goofball rolls over and plays dead.

Natural Lighting

2010-04-06T13:30:00.002-04:00

Photography is half lighting, half composition, half technical knowledge, half equipment, half lighting, half skill, half talent, half lighting.

Many apologies to my math-loving friends who will question my fractions; I, however, make no pretense toward enjoying mathematics.

The fractions aren't proper, but the principle is real. And, yes, the emphasis on lighting is completely legitimate.

It might be "just" an abandoned store building in the middle of backwoods Virginia.

I might be shooting with "only" natural lighting.

A little superstition, a little drama, a few unsteady floorboards, and a lot of Nancy Drew.

Proof: lighting makes the images. More than anything else photographically, the dramatic lighting. See? Told ya so!

Its a good thing I ordered my very own lighting equipment this weekend. Cuz otherwise, I'd have to spend all my photographic days in the rotting old building that lets me experiment with dramatic lighting.

(But the rotting old building is amazing. Enough said.)

Mirror, Mirror On the Wall...

2010-04-05T12:39:00.000-04:00

I'm still trying to decide if girls are inherently more beautiful on their wedding day because of the happy glow or because of the extra time they take on hair and makeup.

The answer to that philosophical conundrum doesn't really matter, though, because the point is that every. single. bride. is absolutely beautiful. But I tend to think that its more the way they smile - especially at their groom - that makes them so inordinately gorgeous; the makeup is inconsequential and irrelevant. No?

(Here, its bride Emily getting ready for her wedding day.)

Senior: Brittany

2010-04-03T23:56:00.003-04:00

I like hanging out with Seniors. And not because they're fun, quirky, excited-about-life, and totally cool (though that always helps).

(And, yeah, Brittany totally fits in that category.)

No, what I enjoy most is reflecting on when I was a Senior in High School, facing life with a bold ambition and general naivete. Making plans, dreaming dreams, living life. It was a special time, full of question marks and huge decisions. Fears. Dreams. Plans. Missed plans. Rescheduled dreams. Scary time, but happy.

I look back and realize that I could never, ever dreamed of the life I am living now. No, not in a million years could I have even scratched the surface on the beauty of the dreams fulfilled. Dreams I hadn't even dreamed are now dreamed AND realized.

Does that make sense?

Basically, life now is tons better than high school me could've planned. And that's super amazing.

So when I get to spend time with fun Seniors like Brittany, I look at my history and into her future. I rejoice in all that has happened since my high school graduation (which feels like a bazillion years ago -- or maybe it was yesterday), and I look forward to seeing what God has in store for this year's graduates.

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen. (Ephesians 3:20 - 21)

Random Photo: Picture Time

2010-04-01T00:40:00.001-04:00

I wasn't the only photographer on duty at Emily and Ryan's wedding. She was definitely in the spotlight. And for good reason, too. Gorgeousness.

Senior: Seth

2010-03-31T07:51:00.000-04:00

He admitted it freely: he didn't want his picture taken. But he was a good sport, obliging his sentimental mother and tolerating me. Me? I saw him as a challenge. I wanted to prove to him that I could make picture-time fun and not pure torture. He was, in my opinion, my Mona Lisa, waiting to be painted.

Okay, wait.

That didn't help anything.

No, Seth, I did NOT just compare you to the Mona Lisa. Ummm...I was just using a artistic analogy that hopefully most people will understand. Because, well, most people don't know any paintings, but they do know the Mona Lisa. And, hey, at least I didn't compare you to Edvard Munch's Scream. :-P Umm. I'll be quiet now. Seriously.

Seth is an athlete and as we were exploring the city, camera in hand, he showed me some of his parkour tricks. Ummmm. I'm glad he didn't fall, let's just leave it at that. (And I think I should've set my phone on speed-dial for the hospital in case I needed an ambulance.)

But, wow, isn't it cool what he can do? I almost wanted him to teach me. But I thought of my camera and decided I didn't want to ruin it. Cuz inevitably I would've been on the way to the hospital.

Once safely back on the ground, we (his mom and me) breathed a collective sigh of relief and stuck with more sane moments, rather than all the acrobatics.

Which were pretty cool, too. (Even if he really really tried not to smile at all my antics!)

And that, folks, is what happened the day that Seth let me take his picture.

Wedding: Emily and Ryan

2010-03-29T23:20:00.009-04:00

So there I was, in New Mexico. It wasn't quite what I expected it to be (I'm not really sure what I expected), but it sure was beautiful! And by beautiful, I do mean beautiful. But I wasn't there for the scenery. I was there for the wedding of Emily and Ryan. And, um, they were beautiful too. (Emily was anyway; no offense, Ryan, but she has you beat - by a lot!)

Emily and Ryan decided to do their first look not at the altar, but at the scenic overlook where - grab your kleenex, girls - he proposed. Yup, that's touching nostalgia for you! He proposed at this very spot. He asked her to be his bride here, and now here she is. His bride.

But first, Emily's dad walked her down the path to her anxious groom. He just wanted to see her. But we kept delaying that moment. First her car was late. Then she had to walk. Then we had to wait for her to be ready to tell him to turn around and see her.

But based on the expression on his face, it was well worth the wait. And, um, I'm not telling any secrets here, but I might have noticed a few tears coming from Ryan.

Then it was on to pictures, pictures, and more pictures. New Mexico likes Jennifer's camera. Or maybe Jennifer's camera just likes New Mexico.

The wedding party needs a huge shout out here. Especially the girls. For, you see, while the boys were whining about having to shine their rental shoes after walking through the dust, the girls were teetering on 4 and 5 inch heels, traipsing over rocks and through gravel, and standing on the edge of a precipice. And, seriously: I heard more complaining from the boys than I did the girls.

But despite their complaints, the guys looked quite dashing, no? (But don't let it go to your heads, guys!)

Ryan looks happy to be at the altar, no? And Emily? Sigh. So serenely beautiful!

But, see, more than beautiful scenery and beautiful weather and beautiful people, Emily and Ryan had a wedding day celebrating friendship in a beautiful way.

Emily is one of the most giving, selfless people I know. She spent her college days pouring into her friends. (This I know from personal experience.) And her friends rallied around her on her big day.

This much became even more obvious after watching the massive number of people who poured themselves into Emily and Ryan's day. Everything from baking cakes to hosting guests from out of town to decorating the church to serving at the reception. Everything. The friends and church rallied around Emily and went over and above all that could've been expected. They were amazing. Truly.

And, um, I wouldn't be Jennifer if I didn't take pictures of the shoes. =)

And there they are. Husband and wife. There they go, starting new adventures.

new mexico

2010-03-29T08:10:00.003-04:00

I got home at some ungodly hour this morning. It was definitely after midnight. I refuse to remember just how far after midnight it was. In fact, I think I am going to block that from my memory.

I am also going to ignore the thunderstorms I flew through (and the inevitable turbulent flight), the 15 hour travel day, the almost-landing-in-Tennessee-instead-of-North Carolina, and the massive rain storm that made me question the dependability of my windshield wipers.

However, I'm not going to forget the entire row of seats that I slept in on that last flight (sweet, sweet bliss), "getting lost" on the way to the airport with my traveling buddies, the cowboy hats in Subway, bubbles, and the incredibly, absolutely amazing state known as New Mexico with its snow and desert and mountains and plains.

Good times.

But, wow, its nice to be home.

More pictures of Emily and Ryan's wedding soon. Promise.

(P.S. I've been on 26 airplanes in the past year. Can I be done flying yet?)

Married: Marian and Ryan

2010-03-25T08:43:00.005-04:00

I'm quite literally sitting at my computer, staring at a blinking cursor. Where do I begin? What do I say? What on *earth* do I write? So, instead of actually writing words of substance, I am telling you about my inability to write.

There. I did it again. I wrote an entire paragraph trying desperately to share with my blog world just how amazing these newlyweds are, how genuinely amazing they are, and how much I value their friendship. But then I deleted it. It just didn't fit. Words were not enough.

Its not that I don't have anything to say; on the contrary, there is so much that could be said about Marian and Ryan. My problem, though, is knowing where to begin, or - worse - how to end!

Marian and I went to college together, but we didn't really connect back then. I have a couple theories why, but they ultimately don't matter. What does matter, though, is that a year ago we sent a flurry of emails back and forth, as we realized we were walking similar paths, overcoming similar hurdles. And the rest is history.

Its kinda like what C.S. Lewis said:

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one”

From then on, and despite all the changes the past year has held, it was the real deal pen pal thing for Marian and Jennifer.

And then, because Marian is amazing and married one amazing gentleman, somewhere along the way I counted Ryan as my friend, too.

So that's how it began, this friendship of ours.

Somewhere in that flurry of emails with Marian, the idea slowly formed. Jennifer goes to Phoenix. Marian puts on her wedding dress. Ryan pulls out his Air Force mess dress (did I get the terminology right?). They drive to the desert. Jennifer grabs her camera.

And that's how it all began.

Google Day

2010-03-23T23:14:00.004-04:00

Today was Google Day in Winston-Salem. Not exactly the most rousing of holidays, but a well-orchestrated event to raise awareness for the push for Google to bring its ultra-high speed Internet here to the city.

In honor of that celebration (and in conjunction with the long anticipated paint fight photo shoot), Joanna painted Google's symbol on our rusty old truck, Ashleigh and Jacob fought with three gallons of paint, and we created our version of Google Day celebration.

Yes, they reaally did get that much paint on them. (And, actually, we kept shooting after our Google bit; the paint flew far and wide and covered even MORE surface area.)

Despite all our best efforts at consolidating the chaos, though, we did end up tracking a little paint into the house. I got my cardio workout from that, just trying to scrub the blue off the carpet before Mom got home from the pool and got mad (my hands still smell like "Resolve," though I can now attest to the brilliance of that particular cleaning agent.

Yes, they are that cute. Yes, they did have fun. And, yes, they're already planning round two.

Happy Google Day!

I'm not crazy.

2010-03-23T13:38:00.008-04:00

When I was in high school and working at Chick-fil-A, I would drop in at the Cato store after work (you know, had to spend all that dough somewhere...). Without fail, while I was in the store, my least-favorite-song-in-the-whole-wide-world would start playing.

I'm not crazy,
I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell

No matter how much that little jingle drives me crazy (have you heard that melody?! its hauntingly catchy and won't go away, no matter what!), that chorus summarizes today.

No, I'm not crazy.

I promise.

Seriously.

Why don't you believe me?

I've been in a state of panic all day. Yesterday I was in a flurry walking out the door from my lunchbreak. I balanced what felt like my entire house (change of clothes, camera, props, purse) as I tried to finish up my phone call while locking up the house and - trying desperately, anyway - still sounding professional.

With just a few precious minutes left in my break, I whipped my car into the ATM parking lot (sorry, Dad, probably wasn't driving my car as kindly as I ought to), grabbed my debit card, and ran to the ATM.

Then it hit me.

No checks in hand.

Can't exactly deposit checks when you don't even have them!

And so began my panic attack and frantic scramble to find that wad of money. Emptied the purse. Cleaned the car. Scoured the grassy, littered shopping center parking lot (did the wind blow them out of my hand?). Retraced my steps. Emptied the purse again. Checked my pockets (there were no pockets in my dress, I finally figured out).

Yeah, panic.

My self esteem = Zip, Zero, Nada.
My bank account = Devastated.
My professional pride = Wilted.

Twenty-four hours later and I finally remembered to check the front pocket of my purse.

No, checks do not belong in that pocket.

But, yes, there they were. (Apparently I put them there for safe keeping while I carried my entire life and wardrobe from the apartment.)

So, no. I'm not crazy. Just a little unwell, that's all.

(I hope this picture is just eccentric enough to prove that I'm a little odd, but quaint enough to prove that creativity is a good thing...)

Senior: Brittany

2010-03-21T21:56:00.009-04:00

Well, okay, um. Do I haaave to be honest?

Yes?

[sigh] Here goes.

This shoot marks the second time in my photographic journey where I have been yelled at by a security guard. Is this normal? I mean, do photographers normally get kicked out of public areas by security officers??? Or is it just me? Am I a magnet for trouble?

See, we were in downtown Winston, minding our own business, shooting in nooks and crannies up and down the street. But apparently we shot in one too many spots. Cuz here comes a limping, middle-aged man with a very heavy 5 o'clock shadow. I was too busy focusing and photographing to notice...but when he barked at me, I totally knew he was there.

He kinda had a lisp.

(Which, I'll be honest, didn't breed the credibility that his ID badge and crispy pressed uniform commanded.)

So apparently he didn't like us loitering around his building.

Sigh.

And it was such a stately building, too!

Oh well. We left, found other alleys and buildings to shoot around, and learned a lesson of photography: watch out for the limping security officer with a lisp.

In the Library

2010-03-21T19:53:00.000-04:00

I'll admit it. Even I don't always direct my subjects to "do" anything specific. Sometimes, well, they just do it on their own.

In this situation, I was working with Marian when I realized that Ryan had snuck up behind her to grab a book from the shelf. I think I might've shrieked something like "Ryan! Stop!" and the poor chap froze in position.

At that moment, Marian wasn't sure what do to either, so she froze too...and then...my trigger finger kept on snapping, and there it was: a mystery in the library.

Anna's Eyes

2010-03-16T23:23:00.002-04:00

I'm still on island time (in the proverbial sense, of course, since Arizona is more desert than tropical paradise, even though I did add a few layers of brown to my skin in a paradise-type-way), so here it is 11:30pm and I'm still wide awake. Wide, wide, wide awake.

Yay jetlag.

8:30pm, no its not. 11:30pm, yes it is.

So, while I wait for my sleepiness to catch up with the fact that I am back on the East Coast, I am going through the several bazillion pictures I took this weekend.

So, meet Anna. She's pretty.

And I like her eyes.

And by the time I had to say good-bye to my new friend, she was smiling at me and wasn't pouting anymore.

I call that progress.

Marian and Ryan: In the Desert

2010-03-13T23:04:00.001-05:00

In the Rain

2010-03-13T06:49:00.000-05:00

Alisha and Jimmy

2010-03-11T07:56:00.000-05:00

As a photographer who has tried both sides of the camera, I know first-hand how wearing it can be to be photographed.

I mean, seriously! So much mental agony.

"Is my hair alright?"

"Where am I supposed to be looking?"

"What do I do with my arms?"

"Am I smiling alright?"

"Would the camera please go away?

I also know that most people get completely worn out after, say, an hour of shooting.
But we were wandering the campus of UNC Chapel Hill for three hours. Yes, you read right Three hours of camera!

Plus, Jimmy and Alisha both work night shift and hadn't slept in a very long time.

I was worn out at the end. Exhausted. Completely.

But they? Still truckin' along, compliant, adorable, and gorgeous.

P.S. The number one benefit of engagement shoots pre-wedding shoot? Loosening up the couple.

Example: I now know that all I have to do is reenact the pre-concert warm-up routine of Sharpay Evans and poor Jimmy can't help but laugh. Just sayin'. It works. (And, no, I did not just make a High School Musical reference on my blog. Did NOT just do that.)

Launch

2010-03-10T07:32:00.002-05:00

Just so you know, I'm finally finally finally almost ready to launch my redesigned website and blog.

And now you've been officially warned.

So there.

Myriam is One

2010-03-10T07:05:00.000-05:00

When Myriam was born, I was a couple weeks into my time in Uganda. She was the first child of any of my high school friends. I was on the other side of the globe and the reality that Barry and Tiffany were parents didn't sink in until long after my return to civilization. (And its a little surreal to have friends becoming parents. Just saying. Requires a little mental adjustment. Definitely weirder than that first wedding among my friendies.)

Anywho. He's a dad now. She's a mom. And, wow, they love that daughter of theirs!

Me? I'm glad my friends have kids. It means I get my baby-time whenever I want it. And when the kid starts crying? I hand her back to mom. Its quite perfect, really. (hehe)

Somehow, when I started snapping pictures, Myriam didn't have a problem with it. She posed like the beauty she is, stared at me with the glorious eyes, and refused to smile...but, man, she sure did know how to stare at the camera. Its intense!

WPPI 2011

2010-03-08T21:39:00.000-05:00

We would accomplish many more things if we did not think of them as impossible.
(Vince Lombardi)

Right now, all - or most - of the photography bloggers on my newsreel are slaphappy in Vegas. They're learning from the experts, meeting fellow photographers, drooling over new equipment, and livin' it up in a photographers world.

They're at WPPI.

I'm not.

But next year? I'll be there too. That's my new goal.

This year, I wistfully sigh at the prospect of all that talent and inspiration in one conference center.

Next year, I WILL be there.

So there.

Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off your goal.
(Henry Ford)

Waiting on Life

2010-03-08T07:07:00.000-05:00

There he stands, nonchalantly.

Casual, hands in pocket.

Smiling, excited.

The sun breaking over him, spilling that golden light.

He's a Senior. Preparing to jump into college and career and all of life's adventures.
He's laughing because he's thinking of his girl -- just saying her name made him smile.

There he is, waiting on life.
And smiling.

I like.

My Goals

2010-03-04T07:47:00.001-05:00

I want to be a photographer full time (self-employed or not, it doesn't matter --- I think).

I want to shoot a wedding abroad.

I want to be featured on a wedding planner blog.

I never want to stop learning, growing, and challenging myself.

I want to be published in a magazine. And a book.

I want to attend a photography workshop taught by one of my photographer heroes.

I want to travel abroad once a year.

I want to buy massive amounts of camera equipment (the wish list is growing exponentially).

I want to do a shoot in New York City.

I want to join WPPI and attend the conference in Las Vegas.

I want to roadtrip around the USA with me, my friends, and my cameras.

I want to turn challenges into victories and failures into triumphs.

I want to help others learn how to take the best possible pictures with the equipment they own.

Finally, I will mock the challenges that threaten to unnerve me.

I will mock like this:

The C.M. Family

2010-03-03T07:43:00.000-05:00

It might be sunny, but it sure was cold.

And by cold, I do mean cold.

I mean, I was fine. I'm just the photographer. I have my nifty fingerless gloves. I was wearing my extra amazing coat. And (shhh!) I had running pants on under my jeans so I could make an easy switch from "photographer" to "trail runner" after the shoot. Me? Not cold.

Poor Gabby and Isabelle, though: so cold! (Not to mention mom and dad and big brother.)

We moved fast, kept my trigger finger limber, played with the cat that kept stalking us, and kept Isabelle talking about her time in "the jumpy thing" at the mall, her reward if she kept on smiling.

Somehow, it worked.

The Tree

2010-03-02T07:03:00.001-05:00

If we're constantly waiting for something better, will we forget to enjoy the just-as-good?

I've passed this tree many many many times over the past ten years.
Many times.

And, in recent months, I have pondered the idea of taking a picture of the tree. But I'm never there at a "good" time (sunset or sunrise being ideal), so the picture has never happened.

"Its got to be perfect," says I. "I'll get the picture some other time."

"I'm too hurried to do it justice."

But what if -- just saying -- what if I drove that road one day and that tree had been cut down and sold for timber, or struck by lightning and blown over in the storm. If I wait, the picture will never happen.

So, no. This is not absolutely the best picture that could possibly come of this tree. Yes, I could get a brilliant sunset behind it. Yeah, a bride posed at its base would be poignant. But, no, I can't wait for perfection -- I'm going to enjoy what I have. Its not "better" . . . but it is just-as-good.

(This reflection on life is not to be confused with those situations where waiting for The Best is absolutely the way to be; there are times when "settling" would be foolish and where we are, as C.S. Lewis says, "far too easily pleased." But I think you understand the intent? Sometimes, we have to grab life by the horns and enjoy what we have -- instead of wishing for the out of reach.)

That's me.

2010-03-01T07:46:00.003-05:00

Hey you.

Like I wrote last time, I've had a remarkable about-face from when I was in 5th grade and burrowed into my hands instead of smiling for the camera. Today, I present a few more examples from my debut as a "model" -- I was teaching camera skills to Maddie and Joanna while letting them shoot at me...

After we took pictures of me and my camera, it was time to explore the ghetto.

You try posing in the ghetto on a 35 degree day in a summertime dress. It ain't easy. Lemme tell you. Brrrr.

And my stylist only let me wear my coat for a few minutes in between shoots. (But I tried to grab it every time a car went by. Just saying. Too much attention is a bad thing. You catch my drift, no?)

Spotlight on the shoes. THE shoes. =) I've owned them for about 8 months now, but was saving them for a special occasion before letting them make their debut. Well, here they are. First time out of the house. And, by the way, these are Naughty Monkeys - the same style (different color) as Sarah Palin wore when she was announced as the vice presidential candidate.

So grateful for that coat. So so so glad for warmth.

AND my photographers made me stand in the snow ... in a sleeveless dress....and heels...and open-toed heels, at that. Ah, the price of beauty.

(By the way. I sometimes ask my subjects to do random, crazy, ridiculous things. But this picture is proof that I, too, will experience discomfort for the sake of a picture.)

And, by the way, have I mentioned that it was cooold? I think this is my death glare toward my photographers; a little bit of a smirk, a little bit of a smile, a little bit of a glare.

And, to close this massively long (and ridiculously self-centered) post: a story.

On Sunday, I went to a meeting of the North Carolina Photography Group - it was my first one, and it was amazing. I walked up to Chris, the organizer of the event, to tell him how pleased I was with the meeting experience and caliber of the photographers and models, I started into my rave review and he stopped me.

"So are you a model or a photographer?"

I laughed, clarified my photographer point of view, and continued with my exuberant evaluation.

But, hey, definitely an improvement from the hand-in-front-of-the-face Jennifer. Just sayin'.

The Makings of a NON Cake Fail

2010-02-28T07:35:00.000-05:00

I am a self-defined experimental chef. I go to the kitchen, look in my fridge, check the cupboards, and start cooking.

Last week, a hungry me decided to go make barbecue chicken and mashed potatoes. By the time I was finished cooking, I sat down to eat a self-concocted asian stirfry and noodles. That's just the way I roll.

As I have come to realize, however, experimentation does not work when it comes to baking. My recent cake fail is a prime example.

Upon hearing of my epic fail, Chrissy and Heather decided to come to the rescue. I came home from work last week to find a package sitting on my doorstep.

In it?

Cake pans, cake mix, frosting, sprinkles...and plenty of junk food to boot.

It was with trepidation that I cracked open the eggs, softened the butter, greased the pans, preheated the oven, and "beat for 4 minutes" the batter. Granted, its a box mix. But I couldn't help wondering: am I destined to be incapable of baking a good cake?

I am quite pleased to report that it tasted as good as it looked.

Cake fail no more!

With a box mix, I can make a cake!

Me and my camera.

2010-02-27T09:26:00.001-05:00

I have had to force myself to become comfortable in front of a camera. I am great behind the camera -- "my side," as I like to say -- but have always been one of those reluctant models.

I vividly remember the Sunday School outing in 5th grade (or somewhere around that age) where I saw a camera pointed at me, clutched my cup of Sprite really hard, giggled nervously (loudly, too; attention-getting tactic...the boys were over playing football), and - at the last minute - threw my hand in front of my face.

Yup, you read right.

I covered my face with my hand.

And that picture has been preserved for posterity in my mother's photo album. I blush every time I see it.

Stephanie, the ever-beautiful girl that she was (and is!), smiled prettily for the camera and will always be remembered for that. I, however, hid behind my hand. What will my Grandkids say -- "Great hand, Grandma!" ???

Well, I can't be a photographer and claim that everyone is beautiful and photo-worthy if I don't apply the same for me, right? Riiight?

Well, this is me, being a model. And kinda enjoying it too.

(Pulling the diva card is fun. I insisted I have a personal assistant to fan away the flies and retouch my makeup and hold my coat and bring me random accessories. Fact, all. Except the fan-the-flies part.)

Face obscured. The fifth grader Jennifer would've been proud.

Have I mentioned I'm happiest when I have a camera in hand?

By the way: in this picture, I was taking a self portrait. I don't even want to know what business executive was on the other side of that highly reflective window, laughing at me as I took this picture.

(The photoshoot was very gracefully managed by the stylist Maddie, the prop-runner Joanna, and the photographers Joanna and Maddie.)

The real adventures will be documented next time...and adventures they are. Promise. =P

Allison

2010-02-26T21:18:00.000-05:00

I wish you knew Allison, so you could hear the smile in her voice and the cute inflections she gives each word. I can hear it, even as I read her email to me.

Jennifer you make me happy. :):) And THANK YOUUUU!!!!! I absolutely love the pictures you take! I actually feel pretty when I look at the pictures you take of me . I am definitely not a model, but your pictures make me feel like one :) Makes me happy :)

I simply must fun.da.men.ta.lly disagree with her statement when she said "I am definitely not a model." Oh pshaw! Fiddlesticks! She modeled pretty swimmingly for me, so I have no idea what she's talking about.

But, aside from that little statement, this email made me happy.

First, she loves my pictures. (Happiness epitomized.)
Second, she loves how she looks in my pictures. (Isn't that my goal?)
Third, she's happy. (Oh boy. Now my life is complete.)

And, because she's graduating this year...can you tell that the cutout reads "2010"?

Sydney

2010-02-25T18:18:00.000-05:00

I love pink.

The fact that Sydney is wearing muted, dark colors in a muted, dark setting is purely her fault. The reason she is wearing my pink hat is purely my idea. (Or maybe it was her idea. Now I can't remember. Oh well. Its still my hat.)

In addition, the above picture completely much summarizes what I know of Sydney. Laid back and not ostentatious. Quietly observing the world, but completely aware of everything. Totally fun (notice the pink hat), but doesn't have to be the center of attention.

Zach and Morgan

2010-02-24T22:28:00.001-05:00

Its no secret.

I love love.

But almost as good (or maybe even better!) is watching people who appreciate each other. Admiration, respect, friendship all come together in a pretty perfect way.

And, today, I give you Zach and Morgan. Watching the way he cherishes her makes me smile (and, yeah, I melt a little on the inside). I laughed with Morgan when she looked into his eyes and just started giggling. I enjoyed seeing them just spend time with each other, content to eat Mexican food, watch the world together, and tell stories of college life.

It was a chilly January day that I spent with them, and not enough time to fully document their relationship.

(And would you just look at the way he's looking at her??)

It definitely helps that Morgan is gorgeous.

And something tells me Zach kinda likes her.

And you know its love when they can be *not* cross-eyed right now.

Secrets, secrets. (Oh boy. Such sweetness.)

Oh! And have you noticed her earrings?

And that cute streak of purple hair?

And what a laugh! (Yes, she's looking at her guy there.)

And, um, I just like this one. So there.

The end.

Bokeh Pot

2010-02-22T22:08:00.002-05:00

Today, I was featured on The Bokeh Pot. So, if you want to learn more about me than you thought possible or necessary...drift on over there. =)

Kristen

2010-02-22T07:19:00.000-05:00

Kristen doesn't mind the camera. And the camera didn't mind her. Not only did she do what I told her to do, she even decided to climb into a very grungy tractor trailer of her own accord. And, yeah, combating the dust and dirt and creatures and rusty appliances and abandoned insulation definitely proved worth it.

Silhouette Again

2010-02-21T21:34:00.000-05:00

Chris and the Gang

2010-02-19T07:27:00.000-05:00

One very cold January day, I hung out with Zach, Tim, and Chris ... and we took pictures. Lots and lots and lots of pictures. (But - hey - if you know me, you don't usually see me without my camera.)

But, see, not only did we take pictures...I even let them explore one of my favorite secret places in Winston Salem. I say secret...cuz if you're not on my "in" list, then you ain't gonna get to know about this place. Its just that cool.

The lighting.
The character.
The creepiness.

Oh yeah, this is Winston Salem Grunge.

Power Heels and Photography (Women in Business III)

2010-02-17T17:28:00.001-05:00

Despite my stint with "feminism" and my acknowledgment that women are at a disadvantage in the business world, I have one question: where are the good, male, wedding photographers?

Yup. You guessed it.

There aren't any.

[insert gleeful laugh]

Its not that men don't try to be good photographers. In fact, they exist in abundance. And, yes, they have the business-savvy advantage, the even-keeled, emotionless, rational, logical side of them is prominent and serves them well.

But, as wedding photographers, women are better. Much better.

Why?

Cuz we have emotion.

We feel the emotional moments, we cry during the ceremony, we sigh in awe of the beautiful white dress, and then - because we feel the emotion - we capture the emotion and get the better pictures.

A guy can take a picture. Granted.
But a women is going to take the picture that will make you gasp in awe and feel the beauty of the moment.

So, see??? Our emotion is a good thing.

(In fact, long-time photographer Scott Bourne just touched on this on his blog: "If as the portrait maker, you’re not focused on how the subject is feeling, you’re missing a big opportunity to improve your work.")

Mark it down: the fact that I feel life deeply is actually what makes me confident that, despite the handicaps, I'm going to be a really good photographer.

Yes, its true. A man, in general, is going to be able to handle the business-element better than his female competition. For this reason, the ideal photography teams are husband-wife teams: a photographer and her built-in encourager and business advisor. Just saying. :-P

I have to admit, though: in all my picture-browsing and blog-reading (I have a over one hundred photographers that I regularly follow) I have stumbled across two highly successful and very talented male photographers who are able to document love emotionally. Ryan Brenzier in New York City and Tyler Branch in California nail it. (Granted, there are others who are talented photographers and take good pictures and have built flourishing photographic empires, but these two -- Tyler, in particular -- have an impressive ability to capture the emotion.)

Why can't a woman be more like a man?
Men are so honest, so thoroughly square;
Eternally noble, historic'ly fair;
Who, when you win, will always give your back a pat.
Well, why can't a woman be like that?
Why does ev'ryone do what the others do?
Can't a woman learn to use her head?
(My Fair Lady)

(Photo by the ever-marvelous Maddie, who insisted that I hand her my prized possession and let her try to take pictures of me. Kicking and screaming, I complied. Thanks, girl!)

"Woman, catch that bacon" (Women in Business II)

2010-02-16T17:45:00.001-05:00

(The Internet Debut of the Power Heels, photo by Joanna.)

I can't help flying up on the wings of anticipation.
It's as glorious as soaring through a sunset...
almost pays for the thud.
(Anne Shirley)

Inevitably, it happens.

I'll be in the middle of organizing my life. Entering new appointments into my phone's calendar, emailing potential clients, adding up the to-do list, or downloading new pictures to my harddrive. Its all good. I'm on top of the world. My life is full and happy and exciting and adventurous.

And then.

It starts.

The panic.

My chest tightens, the hyperventilating is thinly masked. My heart races.

This is too much! Where is the time going to come from to get all this done? Will I have to be a hermit and avoid all my friends? I don't want to do the college routine and stay up until 2am every morning!

And then, irrationally: "I can't do it! I'm a failure!"

A woman is like a tea bag - you can't tell
how strong she is until you put her in hot water.
(Eleanor Roosevelt)

While acknowledging that I have gone through a phase of female superiority - and male inferiority - I have settled for a balance between conservative traditionalism and enlightened egalitarianism.

We are not inferior, but neither are we superior.

But, I'm not denying that women have a battle when it comes to the business world.

Its traditionally a man's world. No matter how much the world has changed in the past 50 years, despite how many women have advanced degrees and work outside the home and have worked their way up the corporate ladder, there's no denying that this is a man's world. We (the traditional among us, anyway) can't justify extra education when we will eventually hope to settle in with the role of mother. We (the egalitarians) are forced to fight for our equal footing without giving in to the pressure to be a man-basher.

Plus, I have to admit it: we are, um, emotional and, um, we can be irrational.

(Do NOT quote me on that. And, o ye boys who are reading this...don't use my words against me. Pleeeease?! :-P I admitted it. Isn't that enough for you?)

All pioneers are considered to be afflicted with moonstruck madness.
(Gilbert Blythe)

So there we are. Fighting for our place in the business world while battling our insecurities and the petty cat fights and irrational fears. In that way, no matter how many opportunities women have, we will always be handicapped.

Handicapped, I tell you. Especially when starting up our own businesses. We fight the negativity from the men around us, plus we fight our own momentary lapses of confidence. We have to be strong, empowered women ... yet we have to deal with the reality that we do have weaknesses, even if maybe we won't admit it.

And if it makes you feel better, insert "I" every time I wrote "we." I'm pointing no fingers, making no generalizations. Just sharing my journey.

--
But, with all that said...I happen to believe that women have the advantage when it comes to photography. I'll explain that next time.

Wear the Pants (Women in Business I)

2010-02-15T17:37:00.000-05:00

We're clearly soldiers in petticoats
And dauntless crusaders for woman's votes
Though we adore men individually
We agree that as a group they're rather stupid!
-Mary Poppins

I think there is something I have to admit: back in the college days, I was pretty convinced that women are fundamentally superior to men.

I wasn't a feminist. That phrase is way too broad, too liberal, and too misinterpreted.

But I did have a brief stint into the world of stilleto-wearing supergirls setting out to prove to men that women are equal to (and better than) the males of the world. I was a very watered down version of a feminist, if you want to use that term. (I mean, seriously -- when you start out wearing denim jumpers and progress all the way to knee-high leather boots, the plunge into feminism is stark but mild.)

I wanted to be a power woman. A crazy successful, super powerful, and overly ambitious female. Men were the enemy and I was the (projected) victor. I believed what Thomas Leary said: "Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition." (And, if I'm honest, I'll admit that quote still makes me laugh. Hard.)

No more the meek and mild subservients we!
We're fighting for our rights, militantly!
Never you fear!

Somewhere along the way, though, I realized the truth: women aren't better than men, we're just different. There's no superiority, there's just diversity. My knee-jerk "women are superior" was merely an attempt at consoling myself at the plight of a women (and acted as my cheerleader for outperforming the men around me). But once I figured that out we're all unique and no one is superior, the world suddenly started to make sense.

Started to make sense -- but still not fully understandable. I mean, the questions still remain: why are they so downright loud? And why do they wear white socks with their black pants? And how can they eat so much food?!

Our daughters' daughters will adore us
And they'll sing in grateful chorus
"Well done! Well done!
Well done Sister Suffragette!"

---
Continued tomorrow. =)

Valentine's Day

2010-02-14T13:20:00.000-05:00

In honor of love: a sneak peek.

With the Trucks

2010-02-13T21:45:00.003-05:00

Sometimes, I look at a series of pictures and I go "who just took those?"

Then I realize that I took them.

And I have to gaze in awe.

Marveling.

"Is it legal to be having this much fun and have them look that good?"

(And might as well admit: this shoot was one of my best yet.)

Cake Fail

2010-02-12T07:42:00.001-05:00

I started baking last night at 11:15pm.

For a morning gal who has trouble smiling after 10:30pm and enjoys the sunrise, baking so late at night was risky business. But, its been one colossally scheduled week and the cake had to be baked last night so I could frost it this morning for tonight's fun.

I picked out the recipe, propped open my eyelids with toothpicks, and mixed together the ingredients.

Then I realized I had a problem: I don't own cake pans.

So I compromised by deciding to make a two-layer cake with the bottom layer square and the top layer a "heart" (which I was going to cut out of the product of a circular pie pan.)

Then I decided the recipe needed to be altered (I can't stick to a recipe to save my life; it usually works out beautifully). Might as well throw a few chocolate chips on there to make it extra chocolatey.

By midnight, my house smelled like chocolate. There was flour all over me and my kitchen. And my cake was cooling.

But then it didn't want to come out of the pans.
And it was sinking in the middle.
And the chocolate chips were making it fall apart.
And there was no way I would ever be able to cut a heart out of the crumbling circle.

I hope it tastes good.
Cuz the girls are going to be eating it tonight.

Doesn't look so bad, does it? Not as bad as anything on Cake Wrecks. Well, look again...

Pretty pitiful, no? And, yes, that's supposed to be two layers. And, no, one edge does not have any icing. The whole cake would crumble if I tried to stick it on there.However, in my defense: this is the first cake I've made since who-knows-when (high school, maybe?). And, um, despite all my kitchen experiments, this is the first cake I've attempted from scratch.

At least I can laugh at myself. (And, yes, I give you permission to laugh at me, too.)

Trying to Tandem

2010-02-11T17:37:00.001-05:00

Some people learn to ride a bike almost as soon as they can walk (that would be my brother's story) and others have to wait a while before they conquer the whole balancing-on-two-2-inch-tire deal.

But once you learn to ride a bike, they say its second nature and a skill never forgotten.

Then comes the chance to try something new with it. Maybe that means riding a unicycle or jumping off a cliff or trying a tandem.

When Andrew and Karie decided to actually use the tandem (and not just stand by it for pictures), I was a little worried. Could they stay upright? Would someone get hurt? Would Karie bail? How would Andrew do managing both people on one bike?

They did fine. No humans were harmed in the creation of this picture. [chuckle]

But looking at their faces at the instant of takeoff (Andrew's foot is only just now coming off the ground for the first time -- see the concentration?), I love pondering their reactions to a new, challenging, difficult situation that will ultimately be tons of fun.

Kinda like life, eh?

We think we understand it.
We know what we're doing.
And suddenly we're thrown a curve ball.
Its scary, but soon we realized.... "this is gonna be fun."

Kinda how I feel right now.
I'm biting my tongue, concentrating on new adventures; hoping not to mess up.
A little apprehensive to take my foot off the ground and let myself roll away from the comfort zone.
Gleeful at the excitement coming up.
Not quite sure how it'll all turn out.
But ready for the ride.

i'm not afraid to fall
I've fallen many times
they laughed when i fell down
but i have dared to climb
I'm not afraid to fall
i know i'll fall again
but i can win this in the end
(superchic[k])

Karie

2010-02-10T07:28:00.000-05:00

When I asked Karie to join us for part of our all-day shooting Marathon, I made one mistake. A. Very. Big. Mistake: I didn't beg and plead and whimper and whine when she told me she had to leave the shoot early to go back to her school books.

I only had her in front of my camera for a few blissful moments, but she definitely needed more screen time.

Waaay more screen time.

(And, seriously: how hard can it be to be a graduate student halfway through a one year Physicians Assistant program?? She doesn't need more study time. She could've stayed at the shoot for a little longer! She's merely memorizing long, complicated, latin names...that's all; nothing difficult about that...riiight, Karie?! )

Isn't she gorgeous?

And, finally, one of my favorites. For full disclosure, Karie and Andrew had never met before our shoot. I know most of my guy-girl shoots involve relationships, engagements, and love...but this was pure modeling. And, in my humble opinion, they did purty amazing.

(And, btw: I am fully aware that studying to be a P.A. is very serious business and requires tons of work and is definitely more valuable than goofing off for a camera. But still. She needs more camera time. Just saying.)

I is encouraged.

2010-02-09T19:20:00.000-05:00

I love words. Actually, I love kind words . . . and despise mean words. (Whoever said "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" obviously never had been wounded by words. Cuz they hurt. Bad.)

But despite mean words that occasionally come my way, in the past 24 hours, I have been inundated with kind words. And I am so encouraged. Blessed. Excited. And otherwise thrilled. (Also a bit overwhelmed: I will work extra hard to make sure to not let anyone down!)

"I really like [your] idea. It would be so unique, different, and so us! When I read your suggestion I was surprised we didn't think of it...BUT that is why I wanted you to do the pics! You think of everything! :)"

And then a blog post by next month's bride (in New Mexico!! can't wait for that trip!)...

"So, it occurred to me that I hadn't told everyone about my fabulous photographer! . . . I am more excited than I can say--to the point of giddiness, actually. The more I look at her work, the more certain I am that it will be beyond what I ever hoped for! Her work is spectacular--bright and delicious and inspiring. I'm sure you'll agree if you check out her website."

And then two of my clients made this exchange on a Facebook wall (and I totally choked on my apple - yes, I was eating at my computer - when I realized they were talking about me!):

J: I like your family photo! . . .It could be that we have the same wonderfully talented photographer:)
K: Good eye!! Yes, she is quite amazing. I will never have a picture made in a studio again - I'm hooked!!! :-)

Awww.

Warm fuzzies.

You peoples are so sweet!

All that to say, thanks for all the encouragement. The emails, the Facebook messages, the wall posts, the comments.

I smile.

Really big.

=D

reflection & silhouette

2010-02-08T22:25:00.002-05:00

The beauty of it, though, is that its BOTH a reflection and a silhouette.

I've been finishing going through a couple of shoots that were put on back burner when I got sick and stumbled upon this gem of an image that makes me smile.

I love silhouettes.
I love reflections.

And this is both.

How much better can you get?

In other news, I have 10 blog posts that I've written . . . and another several that I have floating in my head with pictures to share . . . but somehow don't feel like any of them are quite ready to go public.

So I do stream of conscience?

Makes no sense.

But oh well.

That's the joy of being me.

:-P

Andrew: The Model

2010-02-05T22:47:00.001-05:00

"Will you come model for me?"

I haven't talked to Andrew since before I left for Uganda over a year ago!. But there he was in the coffee shop wearing one classy hat that made him look like he stepped straight out of the 1920s. And I had to ask my question, no matter how random, bizarre, and otherwise weird.

Yeah, you read right. I asked a boy if I could take his pictures.

Probably the most random thing I've ever done. (Well, skipping around a block in three-inch heels was also random. And almost as incriminating. But not quite as embarrassing.) Eleanor Roosevelt said to "Do one thing every day that scares you." And for some bizarre reason I decided to follow her advice and step out of my comfort zone and do the unthinkably un-Jenniferesque.

But apparently Andrew didn't think me weird, obnoxious, creepy, or otherwise insane.

(Or, if he did think me completely out of my mind, he didn't show it. A fact for which I will be eternally grateful.)

In fact, not only did he consider the possibility, he even showed up at the shoot.

And not only did he show up, he willing complied with all my insane requests.

And, um, not only did he willing comply, he did a mucho fabuloso job at it, too.

So when he decides to abandon his freshman year of college in exchange for a career modeling for Banana Republic and J. Crew, you'll know it was all because of me and one random question at the coffee shop. :-P

Of Fear and Dreams

2010-02-04T07:49:00.001-05:00

I almost gave up my dream yesterday.

Laugh not. Its true.

I told myself -- and a local photography studio -- that I was not sure whether I want to be pursuing my own photography business. This photographer and I were discussing whether it would be a conflict of interest for me to help him out with marketing for his studio. And I almost convinced myself that I would never really be a photographer, so I should just give up now.

I tried to tell myself that I would be content if I just settled for being around a photographer and helping someone else grow their business.

What?

Really?

Did I actually just say that???!?!?!

In one set of emails, I almost gave up the one thing I want more than anything else. I almost compromised my ideals, my philosophy of photography, and my love for people -- all because I am petrified that I will fail.

Yes, I'm scared. Terrified, in fact.

I can't do this.

Its too big.

I love taking pictures, but there's no way in the world that I will EVER be able to support myself doing this.

But [deep breath] ... I have to ask: Where's my dedication? My motivation? My passion for what I love? Am I really going to give up just because I had a lousy day and feel like a failure?

I told myself, and this photographer, that I didn't really care whether my photography is ever my livelihood. "My main passion is for photography -- developing my interest, honing my skills. The weddings and portraits I do are nice to help pay for the extra toys I like add to my photographic arsenal."

I wrote it, I sent it, and then I thought about it.

Its not true.

Yeah, I'm scared. But I'm not going to let that stop me. I might never be the next Jasmine Star or Becker, but I can be Jenni Marie. And, more than that: I can be the best Jenni Marie in the world.

I won't be helping this other photographer market his business. He made that decision before I had time to tell him to stop considering my marketing proposal.

Instead, I'm gonna be a photographer.
Me.
A photographer.
Its what I am.
I can't deny it.

I don't know where this will take me, but here I am.

I am Jenni Marie and I am going to be the best photographer possible. I am going to ignore the fear that keeps threatening to cripple me. I am going to stop worrying about what others think about me, my photography, my style, or my business.

I'm gonna take photos. And you can't stop me.

And someday ... somehow... my camera will be my sole livelihood.

Now you know. Mark it down. Its gonna happen.

Trudging in the Snow (aka Walking in a Wintry Wonderland)

2010-02-01T20:17:00.002-05:00

When walking along an icy road, traversed by only the brave northerner or foolhardy teenager, three things are learned.

First, the teenage boys are likely to honk and wave as they slide by.

Second, the worried mother-figures will stop and ask if you need a ride.

Third, the snowplow drivers will not smile or wave.

Oh, and when its that cold...ice cream can survive the mile and a half walk back to home.

An Eye on the Snow

2010-01-30T21:44:00.003-05:00

North Carolinian's don't do snow. Obviously.

The bread aisle at Food Lion was empty on Thursday night. A full 24 hours before the snowstorm was projected to hit. Empty, I tell you.

Today, 20 hours after the snow started, the hot chocolate was almost completely sold out.

I tell you. We panic. Or bunker in for the long haul. Or a combination of the two.

Take the three girls in #302. We are on movie number *cough, cough* (no, we're not telling how many chick flick's we've gone through). We have baked cookies and brownies, hiked over three miles through the snow drifts, made and devoured the most delicious chicken broccoli chowder, and are still snowed in.

But, at least we're having fun.

And at least my guests are cooperative when I point the camera at them.

Besides, Maddie has beautiful eyes.

She also has a beautiful laugh.

And a beautiful smile.

Its a beautiful snow day.

In fact, its the happiest of weekends. (Rivaled only by the first weekend of 2010 for the title of "happiest weekend ever.")

I should stop typing. Its time for another chick flick.

Sketch before you shoot...

2010-01-27T21:24:00.002-05:00

I can't decide whether or not I am an artist. I mean, I'm very artistic when it comes to my camera and all the ideas floating in my head for shots and themes and shoots. But I can't draw/paint/create worth anything.

So when I read an article titled "Sketch before you Shoot" . . . I could've laughed the article right off the planet. Me? Sketch? Not a chance.

If, however, that same author had told me that I would then be sharing my sketches for the whole world to see? I would've committed him to a mental hospital.

But here I am. Two weeks later.

I sketched.
I shot.
I share.

(Pllleeease don't laugh at my stick people. You don't want to hurt their feelings. The might come eat you.)

And then the images I actually shot, based on those two sketches.

Yes, the pictures look much better than the stick people. But that's why I am a photographer, not a pen-and-pencil artist.

I wanna talk.

2010-01-25T08:08:00.000-05:00

I spent all day on my couch yesterday.

Literally.

Allll day.

By the evening, though, I was finally feeling a little more human than I thought possible. Seriously! I had gone from fever-and-aches-and-pains-and-chills (and moans and groans) to "okay, lazy bum! get up and be useful!" in just twenty four hours.

(No, I am not a lazy person. Stir crazy, I have gone. Yessirreebob! Off the deep end of stir crazy.)

I turned on some of my favorite music while I dragged myself off the couch and cleaned up the house in a desperate attempt to accomplish something - anything - with my day.

Bad call.

Right as the chorus of said favorite song came blasting over the speakers, I mindlessly took a deep breath to belt it out, my own personal karaoke.

Um.

Oops.

I forgot one fundamental fact of the day: I have no voice.

You try blowing massive amounts of air past inoperable vocal chords. It ain't gonna work. Just saying. But, hey, at least now I have experienced life without talking -- and appreciate even more the beauty of the spoken word.

Now pass me my soap box.

I'm gonna talk your ear off.

:-P

Undistracted

2010-01-23T21:07:00.001-05:00

I won an award?

2010-01-22T17:35:00.000-05:00

I didn't really know what to think.

What was I supposed to think?

I mean, I get a lot of spam email. When your email address has been plastered all over the www - on purpose, of course - you have to get used to getting random marketing email, miscellaneous emails from bizarro people, and - of course - the occasional real piece of electronic mail.

So when I got an email from Wedding Wire with the subject "You've been Selected to Receive An Award," I was more than a little skeptical. And when I say skeptical, I mean I skimmed the email and then ignored it.

But.

Somewhere along the way I remembered seeing that same nifty little logo featured on KristenLeigh's blog.

And suddenly.

I got excited.

Waaait. Does that mean that in some alternate universe I have been classified by robotic computers (or random statistics or some other impersonal means) in the same category as Kristen Leigh?!?

THEN I let my self get a little excited.

I still realize that this is a massive marketing scheme and a rather brilliant one at that.
I still acknowledge that I have millions of miles to go, photographically, before I will be in the same category as a "real" photographer like Kristen Leigh.
I still hope to eventually win a "real" award.

But in the meantime, I'm a WeddingWire.com 2010 Brides Choice Award Winner and I'm gonna call it my first professional award and do a little happy dance.

:-P

A Dead Weed

2010-01-21T20:58:00.003-05:00

It is no secret that Mothers are biased. Right? But I think my mom is biased times one hundred.

In fact, just today as I was bouncing new ideas off her gracious, listening ears...she proved it.

"But you're my daughter. I will like anything you decide to do."

Um, Mom, thanks for being a cheerleader...but constructive criticism isn't always bad, either. :-P (Wait, why am I complaining about being able to do no wrong...?? Hm. I need to rethink this tactic.)

Anywho.

Mom was the one who ridiculed me for pointing my camera a "old, dead weeds."

But then.

She was also the one who gazed on awe at the result: "Only you would be able to make a dead weed look good."

Ahhh accessories

2010-01-19T21:20:00.000-05:00

Alrighty, boys, you're going to have to plug your ears and close your eyes ... or just skip this post altogether.

Its girl talk.

Shoes, jewelery, and hairbows: the little details of life that make the male species groan in agony and the girls - every single one of them - giggle in glee and feel their heart skip a beat.

What girl doesn't get a thrill from a new pair of shoes...or a fresh necklace...or an new ring? Even the most reserved fashionista still holds, at some level, an infatuation with the frivolous.

So, since this is my blog and I make the rules...I am exercising my authority.

Today is National Accessory Appreciation Day on Jennifer's blog.

Alia & Marwan: A Mid-East Engagement Ceremony

2010-01-18T00:18:00.005-05:00

No, I don't speak Arabic. But, yes, I speak love.

Its the universal language.

A smile.

A hug.

A side glance at the beloved.

A quick squeeze of the hand.

A casual tap on the shoulder.

It wasn't a typical Saturday evening, nosireebob. In fact, it was as atypical as possible. Me 'n my camera shooting - alongside videographer Zach and his posse - a Mid-Eastern engagement party. Until I arrived at the Hilton Garden Inn of Winston Salem, all I knew was "engagement party" and "head coverings required."

As the evening progressed, though, I saw an outpouring of love and celebration in a language I couldn't understand if I tried. It was a cultural experienced unlike anything I have experienced in Uganda, Kenya, Germany, Canada, or Mexico. It was a party to rival all parties. And it was love filled to overflowing.

Her family came from the country of Jordan almost seven years ago. They have established home and friends in this foreign land, but their Muslim beliefs and Jordanian traditions supercede the normalcy of their American life.

In traditional fashion, this was her party. She walked in to the party with her groom, holding tightly to his hand. Beside her, the groom and the father of the bride clasped hands, partnering in her journey away from father and toward marriage.

After the Bride and Groom took their seats on their thrones of honor, all the men disappeared and the music got a little louder. The groom led her to the dance floor, scattering the energetic children and starting almost four hours of dancing.

Then he disappeared.

It's the bride's night, after all.

Her time to party.

And party she did.

With all gentlemen gone from the room, the women let their hair down (literally and figuratively) and cranked the music up a few more decibels and partied with no end in sight.

(Note: Not all the women took off their head coverings. They requested that we limit photographs of the uncovered women; you will see here the ladies who kept their coverings on.)

Even though I didn't know these people, I watched them through my lens for three hours and saw one heart-warming, all-powerful fact: they love their bride. She was never without willing attendants. Sister kept having one of the children bring water to the bride. Another close friend kept the makeup touchups coming before each entrance of the groom. An aunt fed her cheese cubes, not letting it smudge her freshly painted lips.

And Grandma?

She was never far away from her granddaughter. Grabbing her hand as they waited for the groom to return for the next segment of the ceremony. Dancing along with the rest of the (young) women, and just as energetically. Yelling words of humor and support above the hub bub of the music.

They danced a long time, but soon it was time for the groom to come back in.

No announcement was made. The music kept pounding. But in a quick shuffle, the groovy girls turned into somber women, repinning the hair coverings and losing the giddy smiles.

And then there he was again. The only male allowed in the girl's room. The groom.

The male relatives had their own, separate room where they ate supper and talked, while the younger - bolder - men hung casually around the doorway of the woman's party, listening to the music and sneaking glances when the door would open a crack to let one of the photographers out.

With formality, the couple stood again on their throne stage and exchanged the rings, making the engagement official.

He placed a ring on her hand.

She put one on his.

He gave her another ring...a bracelet... two necklaces...and earrings. Each piece was formally presented to her and then placed on for her.

In the only public display of affection from the evening, he kissed her forehead after completing the ceremony.

And then it was done.

They are engaged.

More dancing. Opportunity for father and brothers to see the newly engaged couple.
And then it was over.

The music still pulsed. The brothers got their chance to get down on the dance floor. The photographers heard a few more Arabic yelps and more pop Arabic songs. But it was official. They are engaged, and on their way back to Jordan for the wedding.

No, I didn't get to talk with the bride and groom. I don't know their story. I don't even know for sure whether or not it was an arranged marriage.

But I watched them. I spent almost four hours analyzing them from behind my camera. And if they aren't in love and excited about the future, then I need to rethink my understanding of how love looks. (Or, I need to nominate them for an Academy Award.)

No, I don't speak Arabic. But, yes, I can understand love.

That was love.

Winter Fog

2010-01-17T21:30:00.002-05:00

Hosted movie night. Coffee shop discussion. Shot a party. Cultural experience (photos to come). Shot some guns. Family dinner. And there's still another day of weekend left, thanks to Martin Luther King, Jr. =)

But there I was, driving home from a full day of church/camera/guns/family and the fog was too much to resist. I went home, grabbed the camera (no, I haven't yet learned to ALWAYS have my camera with me), and went back out.

Using a street light to backlight the tree, fog to diffuse the light, and maxing out the camera settings, I finally got what I wanted.

Its not *quite* as pretty as it was in person, but I won't complain.

=)

P.S. That's SOOC, if you care to know. Straight. Out. Of. Camera.

Yeah, I love love. =)

2010-01-16T09:44:00.003-05:00

Its the season of love. Chocolate kisses and conversation hearts. Roses and candlelit dinners. February 14 fast approaches and with it a reminder of the beauty of love.

But its more than just roses and chocolate.

Love is laughing together. Crying together. Its safety in a swirling storm, a comfort in the uncharted waters of life.

Roses was wilt. Chocolate will get eaten.

But the memories of lovely moments, they will always be there. Those moments so filled to overflowing with love and happiness that they just freeze in time and are forever in our hearts.

I could take a picture of a box of chocolate, but that's not a picture of love. A picture of love is when I see - through my camera - a few minutes of your lifetime of loving and capture it for you to remember. Forever.

On February 6, 7, and 13 I want to photograph looove. It'll be a date to remember for you and your love. I can promise that.

Email me or call me (336-793-6622) to schedule a session.

Don't know where we'll be tomorrow
But we'll beg and borrow everything we need
You standing next to me, Where I want to be
Is anywhere you are

Some day if we never said it
We might live to regret it
Come on, don't let us slip away in a daze

You can count on my love
An umbrella when it's raining

When you feel your hope is fading
You can count on my love

Blue eyes, bluer than the blue sky
Smiling down like sunshine
Everywhere you are

For you, I only want the best
You only have to ask
And I'll be there for you

The W Family

2010-01-14T19:07:00.000-05:00

I'm telling you. It was pure chase.

A fluke, really.

An afternoon at the Children's Museum of Winston Salem, a few pictures here and there . . . and then - like a bolt of happy lightning - there it was in front of me. Their initial. Just awaiting for us to photograph.

So the W family got their picture on a W. And I think its absolutely fabuloso.

And before you wonder why I like this picture so much (and, granted, it isn't necessarily a piece of artwork)...take a closer look in the window.

That's mom's reflection as she stood aside, waiting for me to photograph her children. You've seen her here and now you've met her children.

Siblings in the Rain

2010-01-13T21:59:00.003-05:00

Not only did Jennifer (cool name, huh?!) and her siblings decide to surprise their parents with framed photos as a Christmas present...they were willing to brave a rainy and bitterly cold December afternoon for the sake of the surprise.

"Hey Mom, we're going out to lunch together today. See you later."
[in Mom's head: WHAT?! they're my children. they don't get along. yet they're going out for lunch?]
"Okay, kids, have fun!"

They did go out to lunch after we finished shooting -- don't worry, I'm not supporting lying to your parents! And I hope they got lots of hot chocolate. Because, um, it was COLD. And when I say cold...I mean cooold.

But it all worked. We took the pictures. Processed them. The printer even got them finished and mailed to me before Christmas.

And on Christmas day?

Mom cried for happiness.

Now if that's not enough reason to be glad we braved the cold, I'm not sure what would be.

So, yes. We did it. We got the pictures and made Mom and Dad happy.

Life is good. =)

Tommy the Dog

2010-01-12T22:02:00.003-05:00

I'm a people photographer, but my pet photography skills are limited. I mean, even the rowdiest child isn't as distractable as a dog. But, take it from me: hold food in front of a dog and he's practically angelic.

Or, if you catch the dog in the state between asleep and awake, a similarly calm experience is possible.

That's what I know now. More learning later, I'm sure. =)

CD v. Prints

2010-01-11T07:20:00.001-05:00

Which would you rather have, after your pictures have been taken and you're looking at the results? Five 5 x 7 prints and two 8 x 10s and maybe a few 4 x 6 to stick in a book somewhere? Or a disk of all the images to share and print however you please, whether on Facebook or in a frame or on your desktop wallpaper?

As a photographer trying to sell my time and images, it raises very intense discussion and valid questions.

Do I want give my clients a disk of my work and let the images be used and enjoyed in a variety of ways, and therefore lose my control over how the finished product looks? (Yes, I know that you can use Photoshop Elements to edit my digital images. You know who you are. :-P)

Or do I want to limit use (no more last minute trips to *cough* Wal-Mart to get prints made for the Christmas card!), but maintain quality-of-image by only letting you buy prints through me and my approved vendors?

I have a theory on this. (Yes, another theory! Lots of theories! Told you so!)

Its an electronic age. There's Facebook. Blogs. Myspace. Not to mention the whole slew of photo printing companies online (check back in the coming week to read my review of photo printshops). You can send a picture message on your cell phone. Email pictures from here to Kalamazoo. Etc. Etc. Etc.

So, in this electronic age why wouldn't I give you a disk of all your images?

Yes, I am risking that you will print them at Walmart (*cough, cough* don't do it! *cough*). And I'm accepting that you might "enhance" my work in Elements or Picasa and thereby ruin the integrity of my image.

But I'm giving you the images. You paid me to take them. And now I will trust you to choose how to use them, when to print them, and how to share them.

This policy might have to eventually change. Not many photographers still do it this way (often, they make you pay an arm and a leg for the disk -- or don't offer the disk at all). But its technology, people!

I want you to be able to use your images.

(And, besides, getting a Christmas card using my pictures is my favorite. Using my work = happy Jennifer.)

(Self portrait in a store window in New York City.)

Sneak Peek: Karl and Alicia

2010-01-09T22:58:00.001-05:00

Today's photo of the day comes to you straight from the mountaintop. Hanging Rock State Park, in fact.

You'll see more of these later -- including frozen waterfalls -- but in the meantime, check this out...

Timothy: A Lighting Experiment

2010-01-08T07:31:00.000-05:00

As a photographer, I tend to explore the limits of my camera. What can I tell it to do? Can I outsmart it? Will it cooperate with my dreams and visions? Am I a failure or is it a flop? How can I succeed? What else can I learn?

In exploring downtown Winston Salem after dark on one bitterly cold night, my camera performed admirably -- doing [almost] precisely what I wanted it to do without complaint. [Round of applause for the camera, please.]

Using only available light from around town, here's what my camera did. (And, btw - HUGE thanks to my very patient model, who still owes me coffee... =P) [Round of applause for the model, please.]

(Did you know it was possible to make a airplane mechanic student look almost angelic?)

(Hey, Tim! Be Peter Pan!)

I did pull out my megawatt flash and played around with that a bit, adding to the light I had available. Which, in the middle of a dark alleyway, certainly attracted some amount attention (you try remaining incognito while bursting massive amounts of light in a very dark space). But, hey, it was fun. (Riiiight Tim?)