Long embraces and less abbreviations.

I have a deep desire to share.
I resist closed doors and blank walls.
I love to write, but for two years all I can get down on paper are love letters to my son. It can be frustrating, having so much to say, feeling soggy from too much experience. Soggy from all the happy tears and splashy sink baths.
Creigh-
Soggy & tired.
Tired from gripping onto sleep, from holding my growing boy, immature but bold in motion. Tired from hanging onto each moment that is moving so damn fast.
And this may very well be the happiest that I have ever been.
Creigh-0747
One of the things that I love about online platforms and social media is that, to me, it has always seemed like a digital time capsule that we just keep adding to; a way to look back and remember what we were really feeling because memory can be misleading and fickle. I started this blog on a dare. I was finishing Art School and starting my life with Drew in a new state.  I wanted to be that character in the story for others to relate to. I remember thinking “…Maybe they could be that for me too?”

When you leap into a new life, taking a chance on something that you want so desperately but could absolutely fail at, it helps to keep a log. Who wouldn’t benefit from an existential paper trail? Something to refer to and learn from. We are nothing if not scientists…. and explorers.
Regan-2-2Outsideadventures-2018That was almost ten years ago. Drew and I are now married six years. We have a nearly two year old son, one dog and a house in the foothills of Denver. In January, I left my last contract position as a freelance photographer to take on running my small but successful photography business and we have decided to try for our second child.
I am beginning to wish that I had done a better job on that paper trail….
But at least I have my camera and the memory of a soft trickle of water that ran down my sons back late one ordinary afternoon. Where only he and I existed for just that little while and I was completely present in existing there, even with the lens as some bulk between us.
Creigh-2It’s just that there has been so much experience here. So much to share… and somewhere along the way I felt knocked over by the tidal wave of an idea that there was too much content out there already. That my own should not wade within it only to get lost in some deafening roar of everyone else’s. I lost sight of my own concept.
These platforms are here for us to grow from, singularly that reason, and all the others are just decorative amenity. We should not write or share or make art for others. We should always, first, do it for ourselves.
Tessa&JeremyWeddingdayweb
BeisenherzDip_web
Despite all my false awareness, I think I got lost. In work, in my relationships, in “the plan” that I had for my life. It is, at times, unavoidable.
To be completely immersed in something, particularly a goal, is of such high value. It is not a loss to be lost in such a glorious thing as achievement. But I want to start again, writing it all down, sharing the work and the moments and these amazing relationships that I am building with my clients | my friends.

ChampionBabyJames-Web
I am seeing intimacy and its definition change as I get older. I am seeing closeness fall victim to these platforms and a foggy imitation take its place. I feel social anxieties getting stronger and conversations quieter; scrutinized for their length. I want eye contact and deep breath. I want longer embraces and less abbreviations. I want my son to love language and to use it. So for now, I am going to go read him a book or two.
Beisenherz-9025

But I’ll be back soon…

Thank you for visiting,
Regan L. Beisenherz-Rouse
Seraphim Fire Photography
http://www.seraphimfire.com

If you enjoyed this post, please spread the fire…

SERAPHIMLogoWtypewriter#Travel #Seraphimfirephotography #Parenthood #Motherhood #Explore #Colorado #Denver #Photographer #Photography #Family #Familyportraits #Baby #Babysfirstyear #Portraits #Makememories #Documentyourlife #StoryTelling #Longembraces #Lessabbreviations #Photographerforhire #Writing #Expression #Creativewriting #Memory #Parenting #Growth #Change #Photographerlife #Honesty

Advertisements

A Travel (B)log: Changing lanes…

The apex of my circumstances these last few years have usually taken place behind the wheel of a car, or in the seat of an airplane; there is always and of course, the lens of my camera too.
It has been a period of transition, as they say. But luckily,  I believe that we grow the most when placed outside of our regular routine.
(It could be that I believe that because I can’t remember last having one.)
So, in both a blessings wake and what would feel at times like a dare, I traveled from one end of the country to the other; changing as I went, my entire life.

September:  Olympia, Anacortes & the San Juan Islands

If W. Clement Stone was correct , and we are a product of our environment, then I am the product of a small green suitcase with one broken latch. In both the state of our living and all the states that we still have to travel through, I have realized what few items are my desert island five, and how to strategically fit them into the suitcase with one broken latch. It is a shame I think, that I can not sift the salty sea air of Washington and some how steal it away in these last days of September; as summer drags her fingertips across the Sound just one more time.


We have been living in one long narrow room for five weeks. The tenants of a local Olympia hotel while Drew will finish what the military calls his ‘ETS’. It stands for ‘estimated time of separation’, one of the many acronyms that I have learned in the last two years. So to break out of the monotony of working and waiting, Drew & I filled the car with our two dogs, his pack and my little green suitcase and headed almost four hours north to ‘Deception Pass”.

(Named by Captain George Vancouver in 1792… “Feeling that he had been deceived by the nature of the inner waterway… he wrote on his chart ‘Deception Pass’.” )

To cross this amazing channel means that you have finally arrived in Whidbey Island, just the first in a long and beautiful string of Islands in the very north corner of Washington. The plan was to spend the weekend on the shore with family, coaxing mother nature into kind temperatures….


She listened so well that we didn’t leave Anacortes for almost three weeks. Instead we combed the beach and made boats, played pirates and always stayed “just one more day.” One of those rare times in life when we followed only our bliss, while we let the rest sit waiting.



October: ‘Our last gasp’, the I-90 stretch and an early Thanksgiving in Mexico.


We finally left Washington in the early weeks of October with two walkie talkies and a dog in each car to keep us company. It took three days on I-90, which meant time to enjoy the way that the color of the sky changed as we passed through Idaho in the early morning, the moon rise in Montana, and
the density of the dry Wyoming air. For me, it was a welcomed change. Like Colorado was waving hello, and I knew it wouldn’t be long.



We only had two days in Colorado before we hopped a plane to Mexico for an impromptu Thanksgiving with my family. (On October 12th!)
It was just enough time to find an apartment and lock it behind us.

 

What a blessing that we should once again find a reprieve from all the change; with only the shadow of love to fall underneath. It was one early morning on this trip that I stole away to simply sit and give thanks.

 


A few days later the reality of my  ‘best laid plans’ surfaced. Seraphim Fire had a wedding booked at the end of the month, which meant that I had four days to get the sand out of my  suitcase and pack for the next flight.

  

Sasha Gil, a beautiful and long ago friend from my days in New York, works in fashion and now lives in Atlanta, Georgia. Her fiance Wallace is from Greenville, South Carolina. For a chance to capture their southern wedding day, I would head East.

           
           

It was my first time visiting one of the Carolina’s, and turned into one of those magical trips that made me want to (despite all odds!) pick up and move again.
I suppose that is the curse of being malleable. Each place I have been, I have left a small but imaginative piece. One that can exist right there, and maybe never go any other place.


November: Coming home.

On the plane ride home, I imagined clicking my heels together slowly.

Like Dorothy would have.

I immediately pictured myself in Drew’s arms, and I thought of the dogs taking up my side of the bed.
I always thought of myself as a gypsy. Someone who flowered along the roadside. I realize now, that  my home is not defined  by which state line I land within, and it isn’t ‘my next big adventure’ either.

Now, when I picture the future, it always has just those few simple things.

And of course, my camera.

I wish you all the happiest of holiday’s, and I remind those that find themselves absent from my photographs to give me a call.
Because I celebrate life through the lens, you (come one, come all!) are always welcomed.

Please visit http://www.seraphimfire.com for contact information,
and if you enjoyed this blog post, please pass it on…