I woke up yesterday morning to a text from my mother:
"So I thought of what your tombstone should say. 'She did not do one big thing for the world; but through her pictures, she did a million little things for those in it.'"
It stopped me in my (still half-asleep) tracks.
Sidenote: Ignore any sense of morbidity, I wasn't raised to have that. When my mother gets a new piece of jewelry or furniture, my brothers and I will step on each other to call "dibs." I failed to realize this practice was out of the norm until I urged a friend once to "call dibs." I'll never forget her horrified expression.
I have been thinking a lot lately about the importance of photographs. When I work with my clients, I am acutely aware that I am producing a piece of history that could potentially be seen for generations. I feel the importance of the task. I know what herculean efforts it often takes to prepare a family for photos. I often spend the hour before a session rereading the family questionnaire, trying to commit to memory the details of your family so that I make sure I capture the way your babies' hair curls so perfectly at the back of his neck, forever preserving the image that pulls at your heart.
I was at a workshop a few years ago and we were discussing the importance of communicating with and getting to know families before photographing them. The photographer leading the conversation shared a story about a woman who came to her to book a family session. When the photographer asked her what she hoped to gain from the session, the woman surprised her by opening up about her struggles and the fact that her family was on the verge of breaking. She asked the photographer to please show her what was worth fighting for. Unsurprisingly the session was full of emotion, but also so much love. The photographer told us that they were still together.
Sometimes I am asked to do a session for a family sitting in the eye of a storm, knowing there are challenges ahead and looking to document some joyful moments they can return when the road gets bumpy. These sessions sit with me long after the photos have been delivered.
Of course not every session is full of gravity, and I won't pretend that photos can save marriages, lives, the world... but I am continually amazed at the good they can do.
Do you need a touchstone to return to when you are struggling? An uplifting port in a storm? A reminder of what is most important in your world? Please reach out!
Apologies for rambling a bit this week, just felt like sharing what was on my heart.
