I just adore Christa and Tim. Their love is laughter, and I love to laugh! I’m so excited for their super laid back September wedding in a couple weeks! Our initial meeting was one of my favorites, and we shared in the joy of being foodies together. There’s nothing to bring people together like yummy food!
Monthly Archives: August 2009
Once upon there was a raffle. And soon after that I had the great pleasure to meet the extremely stylish Ashley and Bradford who brought with them two of my very favorite things. Champagne and a puppy. I so love people bringing their furry family members to shoots! Yay! Getting married is the union of a family, and sometimes our very first family members are animals, before you know, all the babies and stuff. Anyway, we had a great time on a cloudy, cool day in Brooklyn Bridge Park.
Lilian and Scott are so much fun! They just found out a couple of weeks ago that they’ll be moving back to their hometown of San Francisco (and also, my future home!), and so we did a session in their ‘hood as a nice keepsake for their time in this wonderful city (and my current home!)! Also! I’m trying out a new feature, so if you click on any of the images they’ll open up in a light box! Yay!
I think it’s pretty amazing that Marissa and Alvin met on the internet, through a mutual friend, and in the 2 and a half years that they never met, they already had a feeling. It was only hours when they finally did meet before they were together, and now I’m so excited to shoot their amazing wedding on the Isle of Maui!
We had such a great time shooting around the meatpacking district, and going to dinner after. Right now, it’s hot. And I’m going to go place myself in the refrigerator for a spell. Enjoy!
I’m just going to speak plainly.
I have had the man named Husbone in my life now for five years. It’s such a short amount of time to have someone in your life who has had such an enormous impact. I can’t remember life without him. How lonely I was once is a notion I can no longer even relate to.
I went down to New Orleans to join my husband on the road just as he was approaching his last gig with Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson. The road is not my favorite place. The van is smelly like dudes, my schedule is at the beckon of where the band needs to be and when, and when traveling to all these wonderful places I really can’t jump out of the car and take pictures as I wish because we are on a schedule. Musicians, also, aren’t always the most gracious people in the world when taken in the late night bar music show context, as a general rule, and I am often cast aside in conversations as band-wife-who-knows-nothing-about-music-who-are-you-again-?.
But the road is where Husbone is much of the time, and Husbone is my home. The conflict occasionally makes me (more than) a little cranky.
That aside, something has happened to me this past year that I never imagined. I’ve become an exposed nerve of optimism, hope and joy. Sure, I get down, as we all do from time to time. But I marvel at things as if I’m seeing the world for the first time. Is it growing up? I wonder. But the more I think about it, it’s that I am so much in love that I’m bursting at the seams. More than I ever thought possible. It’s unimaginable, but its running through me all the time. And the more I fall, and I can’t believe after five years I’m really still falling, the more of the world I see. And every single morning, it’s as if I’m alive for the first time.
But this in no way means we are always perfect people or a perfect couple. The more you love the more you can hurt each other. And we had one of those fights that suddenly comes out of nowhere and is a sudden raging fire that is burning houses down. We were mean to each other, sarcastic, spiteful, angry, cold. We who love each other so, can be the worst of ourselves to each other. And we still love. Even more than before. Forests must burn so new things can grow from the earth.
Husbone and I like to do something we call Hugging it Out. I’ve met a few people who employ this method. But at the offering of forgiveness, when the fire is still licking at our insides and it’s hard to settle down, we take one another in embrace and squeeze it all out until we are once again, Husbone and Poo. Sometimes it takes a few tries. The last one is always the best one.
My eyes were puffy with the weight of our heavy morning, as he took my hand and we walked through the unusually (I imagine) empty streets of New Orleans. We passed by a tattoo shop and I mentioned in passing, what matching tattoo shall we get, dear Husbone?
Suddenly I was being pulled into the shop. Even when I entered, I never imagined I’d be leaving marked. Even as we perused the books of tattoos, considering elephants, geckos, stars, words, compasses, victrolas, I did not imagine this would be the day I would be getting a tattoo. Perhaps I always thought of it in theory, but I never thought of it, really, really.
Something simple, we decided. The helpful tattoo parlor attendant brought us to a small area of simple designs.
Speaking of which, in the spontaneity of the moment all I had was my iphone to document our adventure.
Husbone went first, because I am very expressive and I make things look painful. I was so nervous. I don’t like pain.
The telephone. I love this man all over the earth, as far as the distance grows between us, my love never falters. I feel so blessed to live in a time in history where the world is the smallest it’s ever been. Because that means he’s never really that far away. And to think about the mark on my arm, and the mark on his arm, feels like a great cord between us, bonding us together over landscapes. Now, we come in a matching set. And we plan to convince our children that we can actually use it as a working telephone to communicate with each other. It’s gonna be awesome. “Hold on child, let me ask your father on my arm telephone!”
The pain subsided as soon as he took the needle out of my arm. And in the end, mostly, I felt an overwhelming sense of connectedness to this wonderful man. We went out for a celebratory drink afterwards, and as he stood to my left, I was swept up in the echo of our matching symbols. He is mine, and I am his. No amount of fires burning will separate us, because we are each others constant, no matter how far, no matter how much things change. Matching tattoos are like vows.