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Most photographers I know have goals.

Either professional or personal, they have that ‘thing’ or certain experience they are dying to shoot. A cover for a certain magazine. That A-list celebrity. An award-worthy image capturing a historic event or obscure landscape. Maybe even just getting the perfect image of the pinnacle moment at an emotional wedding. Whether big or small, feasible or impractical, many of us photographers have those certain ‘bucket list’ shots and experiences we hope to photograph someday.

I’ll admit, until relatively recently I hadn’t really thought much about my list. However, I know the magazine cover, celebrity, and view from the top of Everest are not on it. I don’t expect or strive to win a Pulitzer Prize for photography or be featured in National Geographic. Some of my items, such as an abandoned amusement park and a stretch of old Route 66, are completely random and trivial. Others, such as a military homecoming and birth of a baby are more meaningful and aligned to my love for documentary family photography.

A little over a week ago I was blessed with an opportunity to check off one of the more meaningful experiences on my list: photographing a family meeting their new adopted child for the first time.

I had first ‘met’ Karen a couple of years ago on an internet message board I used to frequent. I remember thinking that her young daughter, Kate, was one of the cutest babies I’d ever seen, and it was clear that Karen was a wonderful and completely smitten mother. ūüôā I started following her blog and we became Facebook friends. Even without ever meeting her in person, I learned many things about her from reading her status updates and blog. She has such a fun, warm, and inviting personality and is very transparent about her loves and passions in life.¬† These loves include: her faith in Jesus, her husband, daughter and family, Chick-Fil-A, Operation Christmas Child, Ferris Bueller,¬† Zoo Atlanta, and Les Miserables. (obviously the first two are ranked higher than the rest, with perhaps Chick-Fil-A coming in at a close third. ). ūüôā

If you’d been reading Karen’s blog since March, you would have read about a new love in her life: their soon to be adopted son Isaac. After two miscarriages, Karen and her husband Tanna began the long process of adopting a child. Tanna is Korean, so they decided to go through Bethany Christian Services to adopt a child from South Korea. From the little information I know about adoption (and what I do know is mainly from reading Karen’s detailed blog–she’s one of the most consistent bloggers I know) it can be a very long process with lots of paperwork, visits and inspections from social workers, and most of all, waiting. However, Karen and Tanna have been blessed with a rather quick process. They submitted their formal application for adoption just last June, were matched with Isaac in March, and received the call with his travel plans just over two weeks ago. Clearly God wanted Isaac to come home to his family as soon as possible. ūüôā

Once I read Karen’s announcement back in March that they had been matched with Isaac, I knew I wanted to approach her with the idea of me photographing his arrival. Part of the reason was I had no idea if I’d ever have access to another similar opportunity, but more so I wanted to share and celebrate with this sweet family I feel I’d gotten to know, even though I’d never actually met them. However, I didn’t contact her as his travel date was so up in the air; she was anticipating September, and I knew there was a big possibility we might be out of town during that time. I didn’t want to approach her with the idea until I knew I could make it. Therefore, when I read her update about receiving Isaac’s travel call, and that he was arriving in less than a week, I immediately emailed her. Luckily she was more than willing to allow me to come and tag along, but warned me that I should know his flight arrival time before I said yes. Isaac’s flight from Chicago (the end of a 20 hour journey with an escort from South Korea) was scheduled to arrive in Atlanta at 11:56pm on Wednesday, essentially midnight, and that was if there were no delays. I emailed back to Karen, that since I had no children and am a complete night owl (plus how badly I wanted to shoot it), the time didn’t phase me at all. ūüôā

Therefore, a few days later, armed with my camera, I found myself¬† standing on the porch of a near-stranger’s house in the intense Atlanta humidity at 10:30 at night, knocking timidly on their door. Not how I typically start my photography sessions. ūüôā Tanna’s mother answered the door and I was quickly greeted by Karen, who was even more warm and friendly than I expected her to be. I was then introduced to cuter-in-person Kate, Tanna, Karen’s sweet nieces Rebekah and Riley, and Karen’s brother Johnny.

There was an intense, happy, and anxious atmosphere in the house, and anyone could sense the anticipation and excitement for what was happening that night. Rebekah, Riley and Kate had spent some time earlier that day making welcome posters and signs for Isaac, and did a wonderful job incorporating the few pictures Karen and Tanna had of Isaac from the adoption agency. Once I arrived there were a few moments blowing up a couple of balloons and gathering items to take to the airport.



Kate was wearing a very appropriate shirt.










Uncle Johnny helps Kate with her shoes and then family says a quick prayer before leaving for the airport.





Arriving at Hartsfield-Jackson.


Karen and Tanna’s friends, Amy and Sam who are also in the process of adopting a child from Korea, were already waiting at the airport when we arrived.


Karen’s friend was also there to film Isaac’s arrival.


Once we were settled in at the arrival gate, there was nothing to do but wait until Isaac’s plane landed.


To help pass the time, Karen read a special book they had bought for Kate a couple months ago called “Ten Days and Nine Nights” about a family who adopts a little girl from Korea and is told from the perspective of the new big sister. Karen recently did a blog post about this book and how much Kate loves it.


After the story, more waiting…


Since it was nearly midnight, and since Isaac was not arriving through the main (and typically more crowded) arrival gate at Hartsfield, we pretty much had this area of the airport to ourselves. I love this image because it shows the contrast between who was there: the late-shift construction workers just doing another routine night on the job, and a small family who is waiting for a moment which will change their lives forever.


Checking the status of Isaac’s flight.


More waiting….with suckers and a little Veggie Tales to help pass the time.


One of the first passengers who was on the same flight as Isaac and his escort passes by and everyone begins to get ready.


Very excited and VERY ready to meet Isaac.


Once we knew that Isaac’s flight had landed and that passengers from that flight were exiting, the waiting started again, but more anxiously. Everyone knew that at any moment, Isaac and his escort would appear at the end of the hall.


At last, a Korean woman carrying a baby boy appeared at the end of the hall. I love Karen’s expression at this moment and how Johnny looks over to watch his sister lay eyes on her son for the first time in person.


At last! And Isaac’s escort is all smiles. ūüôā


As anxious and excited as they were, Karen and Tanna greet Issac and his escort with a bow, showing courtesy and respect.


These next few moments were so precious and I was having a slightly difficult time shooting while blinking back tears watching Isaac’s family meet him for the first time.


This image is my favorite, and gets to me every time. The joy and emotion on Karen’s face, and a life changing moment for little Isaac as his mother reaches to hold him for the first time. Pure love.


Complete family, at last. ūüôā


Kate greets her little brother with a kiss.


Tanna, or Ah-Pah (Korean for ‘Dad’) holds Isaac for the first time.


Isaac did amazingly well, especially after traveling for over 20 hours. He was immediately pretty smitten with a green balloon. ūüôā


After the initial greeting, Karen, Tanna and Tanna’s mother have a conversation with Isaac’s escort.



Tanna’s mother helped translate Karen’s questions to the escort, who answered back to Karen in english. From the little I heard of the conversation, this woman is a pastor in Korea and volunteers as an adoption escort. Isaac was the sixth child she’s escorted to their adoptive families.


My favorite part was when she told Karen in broken english that she thought Karen was very beautiful and that she had been praying for their family as she traveled with Isaac.


She requested a picture of the new family.


After holding Isaac, whom she brought halfway across the world on a 20 hour journey, one last time, she departs.


New big sister, or Nuna as Isaac will call her.



After a few minutes longer, it was time to head home.

I honestly can’t even begin to describe how incredible it was to be present and photograph this wonderful moment in this family’s life. I was honored and humbled to be allowed to be apart of it. It was such a unique experience to walk into the airport with a family of three, and depart not even two hours later with a family of four. To witness a family dynamically change in an instant, and see all the love and joy this family and their friends have for this precious little boy.

From reading Karen’s blog for the past couple years I known they’ve gone through some tough times with multiple miscarriages and family illnesses, as well as the long adoption process. To see the end result of that process and how God laid all the plans for this moment to come together was and is simply amazing. One of my absolute favorite parts of this story is why Isaac was selected to be placed with Karen and Tanna. Karen shared on her blog that due to Tanna’s Korean heritage, she thought and hoped they might receive a referral slightly sooner than the average couple waiting to adopt. However, Isaac’s birth mother is Korean and his birth father is Caucasian and from Europe, and she specifically requested that he be placed in a similar blended family. Therefore it was equal parts Tanna and Karen’s heritage that lead them to become Isaac’s parents. It just goes to show, you never know what God will use to make His plans come together.

This is the verse that Karen shared on her blog the night they brought Isaac home:

The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy. –Psalm 126:3


Welcome home Isaac! Thanks for allowing me to check something off my list. ūüôā


As I mentioned in long-winded and rambly ways in this post, I, in an effort to jump-kick myself in the face (not entirely sure that is a correct phrase, but the meaning seemed right) photographically speaking, recently bought an old camera and some film.


A 1958-ish Minolta Autocord TLR (twin lens reflex) to be exact. Before I really got a chance to thoroughly test it out properly by running a roll of film through while taking detailed notes about exposures and then developing it to see if the camera worked correctly, I found myself on a plane to New York, camera and film in tow. The way I figured, and it’s right in line with my goals in this post, I could either wait to use my camera until I’d done the perfect test, or I could just give it a go and see what turned out.

And so I did.

I shot about five rolls of medium format film, which is brand new to me, on my brand-new-to-me-yet-old camera while in New York. And I’ll admit, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was doing. The Autocord has no light meter, is 100% mechanical, composes in a square, has a waist-length viewer that reverses the image left to right, and has all different buttons and levers for settings, focus and the shutter. Not what I’m typically used to with my DSLR or old film SLR; but exactly what I was wanting. Using this camera forced me to s-l-o-w down and really think about what I was shooting, and enjoy the process. This was sometimes hard to do while trying to keep up with my friends who might as well be native New Yorkers with how fast they ran walked down the sidewalks. I mean, I know I can sometimes be a little pokey, but I felt like they secretly entered me in some sort of urban relay race with how fast they tried to get to the next block.

I didn’t have time to buy an external light meter before my trip, so I attempted to meter with my DSLR (or use the Sunny 16 rule when I could), which made the whole process a little cumbersome, and even more uncertain. Not every shot came out, but that’s to be expected. Turns out I also have a lovely little light leak, which can also be expected (but fixable) in old cameras.

So here are the results. I’ve done absolutely nothing to these pictures besides scanning the negatives and cropping them when I didn’t scan them so straight. As much as I wanted to tweak and ‘fix’ these I didn’t. I think that’s kind of the purpose and ideal of film, right? To shoot and get it right in camera and not have to mess with it later (and yes, I know that there was plenty of post processing in darkrooms what with the dodging and the burning and such. Not trying to make claim.) At the very least I need a ‘starting point.’ Some of these are not great photographs, but I’m showing them anyway in hopes that I’ll be able to nostalgically look back someday with a twinkle in my eye and realize how far I’ve come. That or cringe at how bad some of there were. Either way.


In this next one you can see my light leak next to the horse’s head.


Unbeknownst to me, Dr. Tobias F√ľnke was attending the afternoon service at St. Patrick’s.


One of the great things about TLR cameras is that they are very discreet and don’t look like your standard camera. Plus the fact that you hold it at your waist to take the picture means that you can often get very natural pictures of people because they have no idea you are photographing them. For example, I was sitting about three feet from this gentleman on a park bench. He paid no attention to me as I quietly took this picture, but probably would have if I’d stuck my DSLR up to my face.


On our last afternoon in New York we picked up some delicious cupcakes and retreated to Bryant Park to devour them like wolves daintily eat them like ladies. We sat by the bocce ball courts and watched a rousing game between some older gentleman.


After finishing our sweet treats, my friends decided to walk over and check out the New York Public Library. I decided to hang back so I could really explore the park and attempt some street-type shooting. I’m really glad I did. I was finally able to focus completely (without feeling I was holding everyone back), observe my surroundings and attempt to get into Vivian mode. I gave myself the challenge of shooting one roll of film in the park the best I could. I must say, these are my favorite film images I photographed the entire trip and where I finally began to feel comfortable shooting with my Autocord.

The famous chess players in Bryant Park:


It was a beautiful afternoon and the park was filled with hundreds of people out relaxing, many of them on their lunch breaks. I had to get out of my suburban mentality and remind myself that for many of these New Yorkers, the park was their ‘yard’ and outdoor space to relax.


Walking across the lawn I saw the carousel. It initially didn’t catch my eye, but what did were glimpses of a gentleman in a cream suit and cream hat accompanied by a child in a pink outfit riding a large rabbit (I mean, why wouldn’t that catch your eye?). They kept spinning around, and I immediately tried to position myself to capture them the next time they came around. I’ve already mentioned my fondness for men’s hats on this blog, and the combination of it, the suit, child, and rabbit all spinning on a carousel just seemed to beg to be photographed. Unfortunately these two images were most affected by my camera’s light leak, and I’m sort of bummed about it. Otherwise I’m quite happy with the outcome and that I was fortunate to spot this random occurrence.


These next two images make me happy and a little relieved with my decision to get the Autocord. Sharp lens and good clarity. Not too shabby for a 50+ year old camera. ūüôā

So there it is, my great New York film experiment. As a very suave gentleman who was known to wear hats from time to time said in a very wonderful movie: I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

(Cliche quote I know, but I felt it kind of related and I honestly really do love that movie.)


What is it about you?

You’re big, you’re loud, you’re tough.


I go years without you,

then I can’t get enough.

-From the song N.Y.C. in the Broadway show Annie

(Even though I loved it as a kid and it was probably one of my favorite parts of the movie, I really don’t understand why this song was cut from the 1982 movie version and replaced with the Rockettes Let’s Go to the Movies song. N.Y.C. is much better and fits with the storyline. I’ve felt strongly about this (not that anyone should feel strongly about the variances of songs in the movie vs. show of Annie) ever since I was in a production of Annie my sophomore year of college and this song was one of the highlights of the play. And no, before you ask, despite my massive amounts of sometimes-red curly hair, I was not Annie. I was neither sufficiently talented for nor desired the role. Instead I held the one-line role of “Mrs. Greer” the maid, without whom Annie would not have had bubbles in her bath.)


In June I went to New York! One of my best girlfriends was having a very important birthday. I won’t specifically mention which one, but its the next important one up from the one where you can order beverages of the adult sort. Unless you place great stock in the birthday where you are finally legal to rent a car by yourself, then it’s two up from that one. So four of us girls journeyed up to the Big Apple to celebrate. Since 3/4 of us had only been to the city once and 1/4 of us had never been before, we were much more touristy-New York than Sex and the City-New York, which was perfectly fine with us. We’re not really that Sex and the City anyway. I’d say we’re more Steel Magnolia’s without the big hair (minus me) and horribly over-dramatic Southern accents.

So far I’ve mentioned two random 80’s movies and related them both somehow to my hair. Great.

Since I’ve rambled on tangents long enough, I’ll pipe down and show some of my favorite pictures from the trip. There will be more coming later, since I took my new-old camera that I mentioned in this post and shot some film.


American Museum of Natural History.

Flatiron Building.

St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

The Dakota. Where a terrible thing happened in 1980.

This picture is the only thing I have from this store.

Grand Central Station.

Wall Street.

Little Italy.

St. Paul’s Chapel. Probably one of my favorite places and favorite stories in New York. It is such a miracle that this church is still standing after 9/11 since it was directly across the street from the World Trade Center, but is even more miraculous that it didn’t so much as have even a broken window or cracked tombstone. Our tour guide was telling us that windows were blown out of buildings for blocks surrounding the site, but for some reason St. Paul’s remained completely untouched.

Me, to prove I was there. I’ve been trying to force myself to take more self-portraits when I go places since I’m always the one behind the camera.

View of Empire State Building from Top of the Rock.


Too busy, too crazy

Too hot, too cold

Too late, I’m sold

Again, on N.Y.C.

Self Portrait of Vivian Maier

I love photography.

I am a photographer.

These statements are not new revelations for me. As cliche and overused as it sounds, I’ve always loved photography. Always been interested, always been intrigued. I wasn’t so much a fan of high school, and probably would have graduated early if not for the sole fact that at my high school photography was only offered to seniors (who had paid their dues in the art department), spring semester, last period of the day. I remember internally scoffing at my friend Rachel, who had been in art classes with me for three and a half years, for her decision to take minimum day the last semester instead of photography. Choosing to not take photography, the thing I had literally been waiting for my entire high school career, was mind boggling to me.

So while the other seniors on minimum day happily left early that last semester, I happily sat in the art room, learning about shutter speeds, apertures, depth of field, developing film, and printing in the darkroom. My first experiences with ‘real’ photography.

And I loved it.

It reaffirmed the statement I made when I was 15 years old that I was going to be a photographer; only this time it seemed more real and with purpose since I was going off to college in the fall. I was going off to college to major in photography.


My ten year high school reunion is occurring later this year. I started to, but did not end up finishing college with a photography degree. In fact, I only took one photography class in college, and it was even more basic than my high school class. I transferred schools (3 times in 3 years), changed majors (all within the art department), got somewhat burned out on being forced to be creative in all my studio art classes, decided to take a break, and in the processing of putting my paints and pencils away, I also put away my camera (except for the occasional vacation).

Years went by. I was still ‘interested’ in photography, but was not shooting. Was not learning. I changed schools again, changed careers, got engaged, got married, bought a house, and got a cat. Sometime after the cat, I began to feel the itch again. I wanted to shoot; wanted to photograph. I still had my SLR camera I bought before my high school class, but really had my eye on the new DSLRs that were finally becoming affordable to the masses. So I begged and pleaded and researched and saved and finally bought one.

And once again, I was in love with photography. Plus, this time things were easier because I could actually see what I was doing right away. Ahh, the beauty of digital. Instant gratification! I began to shoot more and more. Pictures of the house, pictures of the cat, pictures on vacation. Only I discovered that instead of having shoe boxes of negatives and prints like I did during my film days, I had files and files on my computer. And I needed to edit them, because that’s what you did with digital pictures. So I bought Photoshop and tried to recall the knowledge I’d learned in my graphic design classes many years earlier. With editing there were so many options. So many things to do and try. Yay! I wanted to learn and try all of them; because I could, and it was fun. I found photography message boards and forums and awed over the work of the ‘professionals’ and secretly wished I was among their ranks.

Then my friend got pregnant and had a baby. I took newborn pictures, and that was fun. The baby continued to grow and I took more pictures. Another friend got pregnant and I took her baby’s pictures. They loved them; I loved taking them and I first started to think ‘hey, maybe I could do this.’ I was still learning and trying to refine my style, while still reading the photography forums and stalking other photographer’s blogs. I felt inadequate in my skills, gear and knowledge, and didn’t want to peruse anything official until I felt comfortable with myself.

Therefore I continued to read and learn, and I slowly began to upgrade. I got a new camera body and a used lens (note: I got the best I could afford outright. I don’t believe in the whole going into debt thing.), and a fancy new laptop made by a company in California. I upgrade editing software and got a calibrator. I was shooting for more friends, and even a couple non-friends that had been referred to me. I was simplifying my shooting and editing processes, and getting the feel for what running a business is like. Fall comes and I’m actually pretty busy. It’s fun, but a little difficult to handle with a regular full time job. There is a lot of editing and emailing and Christmas card designing and ordering. Oh, did I mention a lot of editing?

Very quickly, my ‘photography’ and me being a photographer had morphed from shooting into hours sitting behind the computer. I’d read it a hundred times on the forums, that a photography business is about 10% shooting, and 90% other stuff. While I didn’t mind the other stuff, I missed the shooting. The hands-on process. I still shot for myself, but still, those pictures had to be edited, which meant hours behind the computer. And just to expand, I strive for very clean and classic processing. I don’t do crazy effects or over-saturated colors or textures or lots of retouching. My dream is to get it correct in camera, but even if I do I still have to upload, convert and resize images, which takes time at the laptop. Eventually I got so fed up with the process and felt so far behind that I stopped shooting for awhile.


I missed the tactile feeling I used to have with photography. Where it was a slow and methodical process; almost a mysterious challenge. Digital photography is wonderful, but it can have the tendency to make you lazy. I know for myself it’s easy to overshoot (since you have unlimited exposures), and maybe not worry so much about settings because you know you’ll be tweaking things during post-processing anyway. It made me sad and frustrated. Here I was, a ‘photographer,’ not shooting and getting indifferent about my craft. I was too involved, too interested, and too obsessed to just be a hobbyist. I knew I wanted and needed to do something and challenge myself, but wasn’t sure quite what.

And then I came across the story of Vivian Maier.

You can read full articles about her here, here and the official blog here, but I’ll give the quick run down of the story. Vivian Maier was born in 1926 and moved to New York from France when she was a child. She later worked as a nanny in Chicago, where she took thousands and thousands of photographs with her Rolleiflex Twin Lens Reflex camera during the 1950s and 1960s. Her work would be classified as street photography and depicts everyday people and everyday life in downtown Chicago. She shot well over 40,000 images, but never showed them to anyone. Also, for whatever reason, she kept 1,000 rolls of film she shot undeveloped. Nobody knew her name, her work, or her story until 2008 when a man named John Maloof bought a box of unknown, unlabeled negatives and undeveloped film at an auction house in Chicago. There were being liquidated from a storage unit for reason of delinquent payments. Maloof was working on a book about Chicago and hoped to be able to find a couple usable images of a particular Chicago neighborhood.

He didn’t find the pictures he was looking for, but instead found an entire body of work by a gifted artist nobody had ever heard about. Her images are authentic and artistic, and show glimpses of everyday city life.

Although I love pretty much all of her work that I’ve seen, these next images are some of my favorites.

Sigh. Am I the only person who really, really wishes business men still wore hats?

This one is quite possibly my favorite. The old fashioned steering wheel,¬† the pocket watch chain, the hat lazily resting on the gear shift. The formality of his three-piece pinstripe suit mixed with the complete casualness of napping in a car. I’m not sure why, but I love it. A lot.

The story and photography of Vivian Maier affected and inspired me in many ways. First of all, the whole dynamic of the story itself fascinates me. The idea of finding and discovering something that was previously undiscovered and unknown is a secret (well not so secret now) dream of mine. When we first moved into our 1920’s house I fantasized about find that mysterious trunk in the attic filled with treasures and keepsakes of the original owners. Unfortunately we didn’t have that kind of luck. Instead we found a bunch of rusty plumbing we had to replace, but that’s a different story.

The second reason I love Vivian Maier (and yes, I do feel like I’m writing a high school five paragraph essay) is that I find her work beautiful. It’s interesting yet incredibly simple and almost unassuming. Rather than glancing at random images of people living in a city, I stop to wonder who those people are, what were they doing that day, what was their life like? I love the classic and timeless qualities of her photographs. Yes, the clothing may look dated (still hoping those hats come back in style), but the situations and people and environments are the same. Vivian’s work makes me pause and study it and think. Not all photography does. In all honesty, with as much photography as I look at on a daily basis, very little does.

My last fascination with the story of Vivian Maier is the whole mystery behind it all. Why didn’t she show and display her work? Why did she keep it and herself hidden? She obviously loved photography; I don’t know many people who shoot and hold onto over 40,000 images who don’t. What were her motives and vision for her art? Was she content being unknown and just shooting for herself? All of these questions will remain unanswered, as sadly Vivian died in April 2009, before John Maloof had a chance to meet her. The main thing I can’t wrap my brain around is why she shot so many rolls of film, literally hundreds and hundreds of rolls and never even bothered to get them developed. To see if her exposures and her compositions turned out. To see if the focus was sharp or the light what she wanted. I easily can get so fixed on the end result of my photography, and to have that reflex while shooting to instantly look at the back of the camera. To be validated that yes, I am at the correct exposure, yes, the light is good, or no, this isn’t working, try something else. All these things are a part of photography in the digital age, and are not bad things. But Vivian didn’t have the luxury to instantly see her images on the back of her camera. She even took it a step further and never even bothered to develop them sometimes. Some have said it might have been a financial decision; that she couldn’t afford to get her film developed. Maybe that was partially the case, but in that situation I think many would just stop buying new rolls. They would save and get the exposed film developed before starting on a new one. Or at least that’s probably what I would have done. But she didn’t. She shot and shot and then shot some more, hundreds of times over. That mindset and practice, as bizarre as it may seem, had a lot more substance and gumption than my current methodology and way of thinking.

Vivian Maier inspired and taught me that the end result of photography isn’t necessarily the most important. Yes, logically it kind of is what with it being a visual medium and all, but when it comes down to it, in order to be a photographer, you have to photograph. You have to actively shoot pictures. Even if nobody sees the images; maybe even if you don’t ever see the images yourself. If you’re not shooting, you’re not a photographer. You might be a photography enthusiast, critic or fan, but all those are passive. I was being passive. Vivian Maier’s tenacity inspired me to, in the words of one of my favorite current photographers and mentors, GOYA or ‘get off your ass’ and shoot.

Thanks Vivian.

So what did I do?

I did the only logical thing possible. I researched and bought a Vivian-style old school twin lens reflex camera and some 120 film from eBay.¬† ūüôā ¬† The Rolleiflex’s were a little a lot out of my price range, so I happily bought a Minolta Autocord, who some say is a hidden jewel among the TLR world. Why the new camera you ask? Why didn’t I just pick up my DSLR and shoot? Well remember how I said I missed the slow, mysterious and methodical process photography used to have for me? Well here it was. In a small, boxy, all-metal, totally manual and meter-less camera from 1958 that I had never even touched before owning. And film? What’s that? I haven’t shot film in literally years and never medium format. I was challenged. I was inspired. And it was time to shoot.

And so I did.

And all was right with the world.

(Well not really, but it seemed like a fitting place to end the longest blog post I’ve possibly ever written. Stay tuned to see results. If by chance anyone has actually stuck with it and read this entire post, kindly leave your name and address in the comments and I’ll send you some cookies or a lovely card or a gold star in the mail as a thank you. ūüôā )

A couple of weeks ago I went to take pictures of Josh and Meredith‚Äôs new little boy Heath who was only three weeks old.  He‚Äôs so cute and such a little guy!  I think at three weeks he was just under 7 pounds. 

Heath was a good model and pretty alert the whole time.  Well, except for this first picture.

Heath Ward_8.08_003

Heath Ward-BW-003

So peaceful.

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Heath Ward-BW-008

Heath Ward-BW-012 

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I love black & white pictures of babies!

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How could you not love this face?

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Heath Ward_8.08_033

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Such a beautiful family.

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I love these two of Meredith.

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We even got the dogs involved in the photo shoot.  I was so impressed they all sat and looked at the camera!

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The one on the right (Mister) even gave me a smile!

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I had a lot of fun taking pictures with little Heath.  With babies this young you never know what to expect. 


These pictures are a couple months old, but I just finished editing them so I thought I’d share.¬† They were taken in June when we went to Gulf Shores, AL with our friends (including the Amazing Maisie).

Josh and Meredith were expecting their first son while we were there and of course had to take some maternity pictures on the beach.

Meredith had a pretty rough pregnancy but she looked great in these pictures.



These last three are some of my favorites.

I mentioned before that I’m trying to get more into photography so I figured it’s time I posted some of the pictures I’ve taken recently.¬† The first week of June, Stephen and I went to Gulf Shores with some of our good friends.¬† One of the last days we were there we did a mini-photo shoot on the beach.¬†

Here on some of the pictures I took of our good friends Amy & Jason and their adorable daughter Maisie.¬† Amy is one of my best friends (I’ve known her since about 4th grade) and the first of my close friends to have a baby.¬† (I’ve told her I’ve observing her as my test run¬†for the whole parenting thing.¬† So far it looks alright…)¬†

Cutie Maisie.¬† Doesn’t she look like the Gerber baby?

Maisie has the prettiest eyes.


 This is one of my favorites.

So is this one.

Again, look at those eyes!

Maisie was a really good model.¬† We only had one spit-up incident, but despite it she remained smiling.¬† I had so much fun taking these pictures!¬† Soon I’ll post some of the maternity pictures I took of Josh & Meredith from the same trip.

This past weekend I had the opportunity to check off something on my list.¬† Well I don’t actually have a tangible list (maybe I would¬†if I could have stuck to my Barnes & Noble journals).¬† Its¬†more like a running list of things I want to do sometime in my life that’s floating around in my head.¬†

Things like: get a passport and use it,¬†see real Amish people,¬†visit a glacier, get a car with built-in cupholders (you think I’m kidding on that one don’t you?), go to a taping of “The Price is Right” (never-mind about that one, I only wanted to see Bob Barker and Drew Carey is awful as a host), go ice skating at Rockefeller Center in New York at Christmas, things like that.

Well this past weekend my sweet husband took me to¬†an exotic place¬†so that I could fulfill one of my “list dreams.”¬† Where is this exotic place you ask?¬† None other than Monroeville, Alabama.¬† Where?¬† Exactly.¬†

Monroeville is the birthplace, childhood¬†residence and¬†occasional current residence of Nelle Harper Lee the author of “To Kill a Mockingbird.”¬† I LOVE To¬†Kill a Mockingbird.¬† It is my all-time favorite book, and by all-time favorite I mean¬†have to restrain myself¬†to reading it only one time a year, I¬†can quote it almost like Scripture and I want to name all my unborn children after characters.¬† (My husband and I have agreed on one name–no he didn’t go for Atticus–and now I’m just praying that between now and then that it isn’t used by a character on Grey’s Anatomy,¬†the next American Idol winner or for¬†Brangelina’s next adopted baby.)

Anyways, back to Monroeville.¬† It’s in the middle of nowhere, there’s not much to it, but I had to go.¬† Every May the town puts on a stage production of To Kill a Mockingbird.¬† Not just in a theater, but at the old 1903 courthouse that sits in the center of the Square.¬† The very courthouse where Harper Lee used to watch her father¬†A.C. Lee (the model for Atticus) practice law in the 1930’s.¬† The courthouse¬†is beautifully preserved and¬†was replicated for the¬†TKAM movie starring Gregory Peck.¬†¬†I first heard about this production from a one page article in Southern Living four years ago.¬† I ripped it out, and added it to the mental list of things I want to do.¬† (Here is the link to the article in Southern Living:,28012,633082-1,00.html¬†)

I was so happy when Stephen said we should get tickets this year.¬† It’s not often that husbands volunteer to drive to the middle of nowhere to see a play about a book they had to read in 8th grade. ¬†(As much as it pains me, Stephen¬†does not share in my Mockingbird obsession.¬† I’ve learn to come to terms with it.)¬† So after him calling for an hour and a half (they ‘release’ the tickets one day and you have to call that day to get them or they sell out) we were able to secure 2 tickets for the May 24th show, which also¬†included a¬†drink¬†and dessert reception afterwards with the cast.¬† Score!

The drive to Monroeville from Atlanta is long.¬† It’s¬†about an hour and a half past Montgomery, which is¬†about three hours from Atlanta.¬†¬†I finally¬†started to get excited when we started seeing signs for it, especially since Monroeville isn’t listed on non-detailed maps.¬†











When we saw the sign for the Old Courthouse Museum we knew we were getting close.


Stephen does get props for not booking us to stay in this hotel.¬† Check out the old-school “Color TV” sign.¬† (We did stay at a Holiday Inn Express and the next day I was secretly wanting someone to ask me a tough question so I could say “I’m sorry, I dont’ know that, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.”¬† Unfortunately it didn’t happen.)

We got to our hotel and oddly enough in the parking lot (remember we just drove 280 miles to the middle of nowhere Alabama) is a truck from none other than where we started: Marietta, Georgia.  I thought it was weird so I took a picture of it. 

We checked into our hotel, changed and drove the 5 miles into downtown Monroeville.¬† About two blocks from the courthouse is the location of Harper Lee’s childhood home.¬† All the homes are the street are long gone (they were gone even before the¬†move was filmed in the early 1960’s) and on it now stands¬†“Mel’s Dairy Dream.”¬† There is¬†no indication of¬†the importance of its former structure at all.¬† My guess is that its because Harper Lee is still an occasional resident of the area, and strives to be out of the limelight.¬† In fact, she¬†has never attended (or from what I’ve heard never has to plans to attend) the Mockingbird play in Monroeville.¬† She guards her book and characters closely which is why you won’t see anything specific¬†or commercial about them in the¬†gift shop or around town.¬† Harper¬†Lee¬†is¬†somewhat¬†of a mystery (why did she only write one book and¬†why has she been a¬†recluse since the 1960’s?) and you can sense the town tries to respect her anonymity while still sharing and celebrating in the importance of her novel.¬† ¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†

Next to Mel’s Dairy Dream is an old rock wall and crumbling foundation of a house that belonged to the¬†relatives of writer Truman Capote.¬† Truman would come and spend the summers in Monroeville and became childhood friends of Harper Lee.¬† It is said they used to write stories together in the treehouse behind the Lee home.¬†¬†He ended up being the¬†basis for the character Dill.¬† There is a historical marker¬†telling of Monroeville’s role in the life of Truman Capote.¬†¬†The fact that Monroeville was once the home of these two very famous authors makes it the self-claimed “Literary Capital of Alabama.”¬†


The view of the remains of Truman’s home looking to where the Lee home used to stand.

Once we were in the Square we took some time exploring the courthouse.  They have turned many of the rooms into museum displays and a gift shop, but the courtroom looks very much untouched.  It was beautiful, quiet and spacious and I took a lot of pictures. 





Here is me trying to be like Harper Lee.  This a picture of her from Life Magazine in 1961.


After a while we got ready to get our seats for the play.¬† The first half takes place on the courthouse lawn in front of a small set of the Finch’s, Radley’s and neighbors houses.¬†


Here is Sheriff Tate summoning the jury.  12 men from the audience get selected at random to serve on the jury and sit in the jury box during the second half of the play.   


Overall I really enjoyed the play.¬† Obviously nothing can come close to the greatness of the book (I love the movie but not even that did it justice–alright Gregory Peck was pretty amazing as Atticus) and it’s tough to squeeze a whole novel into a 2¬†hour play.¬† The actors are all local residents so there were some missed lines and heavy accents, but to me that just added to the uniqueness of it all.¬† You could sense that this truly is a community effort.¬† The courthouse scenes were awesome.¬† The atmosphere of the courtroom was almost like another character who didn’t make their entrance until the second act.¬† I loved being in that¬†courtroom.¬†

After the end of the play we went back¬†out to the lawn for¬†drinks and the dessert reception.¬† We hadn’t officially eaten dinner so we loaded up.¬† I had like 2 plates of cheese before Stephen told me I should stop.¬†

We met and talked with some nice people from Montgomery.  Everyone was really surprised that we had driven all the way from Atlanta.  We were also potentially the youngest ones there. 

After we left the reception we were still hungry so we drove through what appeared to be the only thing open in town: McDonalds.¬† While waiting in the drive-thru who did we see but none other than Tom Robinson.¬† I guess being convicted of a crime you didn’t commit makes you kind of hungry.¬†


All in all it was a wonderful night and experience.¬† I feel like I got to take part in something special;¬†a hidden gem of the South.¬†¬†I got¬†to walk the streets¬†Harper Lee grew up on, sit in the courthouse her father practiced in, and come as close to Maycomb as one can get.¬† I’ve always¬†wondered about¬†Harper Lee and¬†now¬†I feel I got to see a little glimpse of¬†her world.¬† As Atticus told Scout:¬†“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”¬†

Being in Monroeville was almost enough.¬† I’m so glad I got to check this off my list.¬†¬†¬†¬†


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