I promise you my love for photography was not born through my first camera; it was not born in a museum over a series of modern art or Edward Weston that moved me. However, that sounds incredibly romantic, and I love his work. My love for photography was born as a young girl in my bedroom listening to music and pouring over magazines on the floor; I felt moved and inspired, transformed and different at just the thought of becoming myself…more, more than I was, coming into my own, growing up, building a life, living an adventure and being the best version of me.

Sometimes, words are not enough; that quote is on the cover of my composition binder and echoes in my mind now. Have you ever felt that way? Have you ever fallen in love and felt that words failed to express your feelings? I laugh at that because, in this journey as a photographer, I have wanted to get back into writing for a while now. Maybe that is why I chose photography— I think certain feelings were better said with pictures. Think of your favorite movie scenes – seeing how an image evokes so many emotions is not hard. AND though i could call myself a poet at times, I’m no wordsmith and really didn’t see myself hammering it out in front of my computer; I am way too much a lover of people. Even how I communicate to my clients when taking their pictures isn’t necessarily words, per se, but tones. But perhaps photography, in my mind, was never meant to live alone without words. Photos, words, and music were always viewed as tools to evoke the fireworks inside my mind, and together, they were goals that gave me goosebumps.

I spent the summer days after returning from camp with all these experiences that nourished me. I sat on my bedroom floor, pouring over images and thinking about what I had learned and who I would be now. I felt lit. That direction fueled my steps and motivated the days at babysitting gigs, working at Starbucks, and waiting tables. I was inspired by how I wanted my life to be and who I would be while creating it. I wasn’t aiming to be the model in the magazine, but I loved specific attributes. Still, I hoped that if I put my energy toward the life I wanted, I would find my own version of what I wanted, just like the Indigo Girls’ “Closer to Fine” and BoDean’s song “Closer to Free.”

It’s Now Sunday Morning, probably more than 20 years later; my husband is making pancakes, and one of my littles just brought me an iced latte. There was this quote about that type of moment a few years ago, circling around Instagram. “One day, you’ll wake up at 11:30 on a Sunday with the love of your life and make some coffee and pancakes, and it will all be alright.” I’ve been in this phase for a while now, though it’s more like an 8:30 am phase. It’s been brought on since I met Michael; he was so good that all my writing and dreaming for the perfect man stopped, and we were just in it. When I met him, he was everything I ever wanted, and he welcomed me into his life, and I started really living. When we left our wedding, I was so excited that I got to go home to go with him, as if it was Christmas morning every day. And I had left a wedding once before as a new Mrs., and I didn’t feel that way.

I have wanted to return to writing for a while. I have tried to connect it to my photography. But I was still determining if it would fit. There’s a lot about love and imagining different versions of myself, lots of longing, lingering, and dreaming of contentment, all while chasing the life I wanted, on my own or with the love of my life. And my absolute favorite pieces are those I wrote, which are not from my perspective. You can see how I wondered if it would be misunderstood. But that’s life. And it’s fire. It’s fuel. For the life you want, the life you have, and the life we all get to live and live abundantly. It’s the girl version of Eric Church’s “Desperate Man,” followed by his next album, Heart on Fire, and ultimately, like the view from my own Ray Bans.

In the last two weeks, I got a silly diagnosis that, at best, has probably saved my life from the repercussions of not taking care of myself, a noted pendulum swing from my days with an obsessive eating disorder I had in high school. On average, this new thing I’m dealing with will be inconvenient. At its worst, I want to make sure I am fully living now and have brought you into the heart behind what I do. It’s perfectly summed up in a Newsies lyric, “And so the world will feel the fire and finally know.”

I LOVE the concept of becoming…. because I feel we always are. It’s not only the idea of something new; it’s something starting again… it’s seeing possibilities… finding adventures that await around every turn…, and the forward motion you’re pursuing for the dreams you have. That explains my connection and love for high schoolers, and it extends to women and entrepreneurs. We are constantly making choices and evolving daily, purposefully creating ourselves, taking on new challenges, learning from the twists and turns life throws, redirecting, balancing, and centering, and we emerge stronger every time. And it’s a love story, a love story to ourselves.

So glad you are here.

mg