Here’s your permission.
To love something more than you should. More than is “professional.”
Here’s your pass to let inspiration fill you up with a zillion more ideas and projects than you can ever create in real life, to feel deeper than you’re allowed to, to laugh loud and obnoxious and dance like a lunatic in your kitchen even though your kids are not old enough to care. Here’s your permission to try ridiculous things that maybe and probably actually will not work even a little bit, to give that thing your whole best even if it’s not that bigga deal to everyone else, to buy impractical curtains and things that don’t make sense but just move you.
here’s your permission to live a life flying high walking that tightrope line between insanity and genius.
I had the incredible opportunity to teach at Photo Native this weekend, and we talked family photography. I shared my tips, the tricks and the how-tos, but more than that I shared that impractical piece of me that feels so deep, loves so hard and cares so. freaking. much about showing family after family their highlight reel–those moments that will give them strength to be patient through one more tantrum and wake up just one more day thinking, I still choose this. Even in the awkward dance of not knowing what this human who’s still dependent on you needs, exactly. Even in the heart ripping choice minutes–tough love and the spaces you finally realize how little is in your control, but simultaneously how huge your ripply impact is. To keep choosing family life when almost every outside voice is screaming ‘choose it as few times as possible’–that gets me way down under the surface.
if you really want to see bravery, courage, true love–look here. look inside families.
and hi hey hello if you’re still reading there’s a good chance you’re interested in a family session. see more family sessions here, or let’s chat about your session. (ps–if you’re in southern california, these were taken in–yes–january. so no need to wait for the fall, let’s get your family photographed n-o-w.)
