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
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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.
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But I’ll be back soon…

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

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It’s got to have he(art).

 

weddings, Denver, Colorado, love

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notion

Syllabification: no·tion
Pronunciation: /ˈnōSHən /
NOUN
1A conception of or belief about something:

SYNONYMS
2An impulse or desire, especially one of a whimsical kind:

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I tend to hold tight to certain beliefs, but take care not to adopt too many.
I do this because I enjoy staying open to the possibility that perhaps there is something, somewhere that I have overlooked. Some fact that I have yet to learn that will change the course of my actions in future scenarios.

It’s not that I like being wrong of course, that would be absurd.

But, … there is comfort for me in that blindside;

a chance for brighter sparks.

Colorado wedding photography, Denver, Wedding, Sparkler exit, Love

Usually, I like to start the blog by sharing something positive with you.
I’ll say, “I love horse feathers.” (The expression, not the band) or ” I love the old churches that spot the territory of Mexico.” And then a reason follows…
“The colors of my heart, or that expression always makes me laugh.” 
And it is my purest hope that at least one of my readers will feel the same way, or will have a loved one that also loves horse feathers, and some kind of warmth is spread over these imaginary lines.
(And I swear that where ever I am, at that moment, I can feel it too.)

That is one of my favorite beliefs…
That sharing parts of yourself openly will help others feel brave enough to open up too. Because connection is paramount. And then comes love.

 

And you know that I believe in love.

Colorado wedding photography, engagement photography, Seraphim Fire Photography, Rebecca & SethColorado weddings, first look, groom moment, Seraphim Fire Photographyengagement session Michigan, champagne celebration

The less poetic reality of this bottom line however, is that everything changes.
And whether the particular instance that you now find yourself is negative or positive is really inconsequential…
with a little time, whatever the landscape in front of you looks like, that weather will change, and how you look at it matters too.

But, what happens when you feel overwhelmed suddenly by all that responsibility? After months, or years of feeling a kind of delightful certainty in what remains un-certain, what if the space of unknowingness feels entirely… uncomfortable?

Well, it means that your blog can not begin with something so trite as horse feathers,
and that life simply would not be balanced without light’s opposite.

Light Painting, self portrait, Snowy Denver at night, Regan L Rouse

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tenebrosity
Line breaks: tene|bros¦ity
Pronunciation: /tɛnəˈbrɒsɪti /
NOUN

[MASS NOUN]
• literary
The quality of being dark or shadowy.
………………………………………………………….   Ann Arbor Michigan, Seraphim Fire Photography, Typewriters

In late November I mentioned to two of my closest friends, (also writers) that I was suffering from what I called “a loss of my creative ambition.”
To those of you that do not work in the arts, I realize that this sounds like a made up thing.
Like cooties, or Dragon Pox.

I’ve experienced this type of  turmoil before,     so without any real solutions in mind the conversations usually trailed off like the sound of a motorist dissolving down the highway, leaving my own squat to remain low beside the road; (much like my spirit)
a tired thumb out to the side of me.

But this time it felt like something worse, something that I couldn’t exactly understand myself, and so I gave it time.
(After all, that’s what they always tell you to do with a problem that you don’t know how to solve, let alone identify.)

But still, I kept trying… letting the work speak for me in languages that I could not seem to decipher. And despite the strange and desperate hunger that I felt, a need to explain with words that I could not find, my only contentment existed through the lens, and in the positive responses from clients and colleagues.

head in the clouds, artistic expression, creative ambition

wedding, colorado, time, flowers, Bella Calla, Seraphim Fire Photography
So naturally, when weeks later Drew turned to me and said,…

“Give it time…it will pass when you feel really inspired.”
My expression spoke louder than I could. It screamed.
His eyes stayed locked on me, so it was impossible to hide the look on my face, something deeper than worry.

Something with a heartbeat, and feet that left boot prints.

“What if it doesn’t?”
And because I am sometimes a little dramatic, all he did was smile this warm, fantastic smile, and kiss me softly on the temple. And usually, that would have done it.
Restored my faith in the system, the universe,
whatever well you drop your coin into.

But it didn’t.

And I didn’t have the strength to tell him that frankly, Inspiration was hardly the problem.

Family moment, Baby in bed, pointed toes  Boudoir session, Love, ring detail, engaged
Lifestyle Portraiture, editorial portraiture, Seraphim Fire Photography, Lady Super Hero Project, Clark Kent  Tattoo, Denver, Colorado, Fine Art, Seraphim Fire Photography, Tattoos, red, beauty, Colorado Mother walk, down the aisle, Mexico wedding motherhood, mother's day, pregnancy, maternity

And this is the time that I would tell most of you not to worry. To keep your faith, and that some magical thing will happen to you to restore whatever it is, whatever is missing. To stay positive, and take walks, and write love letters, and to kiss your children.

And I do believe that. ..

But in this case, none of that worked.
Denver Art museum, night photography, Darkness, Colorado, Regan L Rouse
wedding, Denver Art Museum, Elevator Love

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago when, in preparation for our big move, we took everything off of the walls. And the words & the feelings, (vague & in no way categorical) started to link together, and It didn’t feel temporary.

No more borrowed feelings. … …

Lady Super hero

The stark white of the wall that Drew had just painted covered the mint green that peeked out from underneath the yellow before it that in some way captured within its molecular makeup the misconceptions and expectations of my future, stuck in limbo between the new and the aged choices that I would make.
I thought out loud as Drew let the paintbrush dip for the last time into the bucket.
“…There it is…” my words captured inside the breath that I had just taken.

And luckily, because I married my best friend, he didn’t even have to ask.
Instead he wrapped his arms around me, and there I would remain.

Colorado wedding photography, Seraphim Fire Photography, Enagagments

I like to think that the emptiness of those walls suddenly felt promising. I like to think of my Aunt Rachella saying years ago that our eyes need a place to rest in a room, and to leave open spaces while considering the decor of a particular place.
“It lets the viewer appreciate each piece without becoming overwhelmed.”

Whatever it was, very suddenly, that ‘space’ opened up for me. And for the first time in months the rush of emotions was,… gentler.
It was the following week that we moved. And whether anything had really changed, or not, everything simply looked different to me.

 

eyes, engagement, looking ahead, love, Colorado

 

 

 

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accessible

Syllabification: ac·ces·si·ble
Pronunciation: /akˈsesəbəl /
ADJECTIVE

1(Of a place) able to be reached or entered:
SYNONYMS
1.2 Easily understood:
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Regardless of how many times I have learned this lesson, I never have allowed its truth to comfort me. Not like I do now.

I believe that change allows us to access new parts of ourselves, or at least shows us that option. For so many of us, change is the uncertainty; something outside of ourselves, something dark and shadowy with no identifying features.

But with time & perspective, even that is likely to change.

Just like ourselves…
Ever growing.

 

ever changing, ever growing

Lady super heroes, Seraphim Fire Photography, Scarlet Ravin, White Fox,

 

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Love,

Be brave, SFP logo

 

Things on paper.

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I absolutely love idioms.
Things like, Stay the course, and Keep your eye’s peeled. I love that they ring out from years and years of consistent historical change, but the expressions themselves never do. I love the random and strange language of them, and that you can tell where a person is from when they use one or another in particular.
And I love  that when you ask someone, “Which one is your favorite?”, they almost always smile…
Seraphim Fire Photography Seraphim Fire Photography

Maybe it is because they are remembering when first they heard it, or perhaps they loved the one that taught it to them, but in that moment I can watch them disappear into the depth of a memory.

  Seraphim Fire Photography  Little girl In Red memory
I can only assume that these fabulous phrases have stayed so stead-fast because of their truth. Something that we are all searching for, I think.

They suggest some sort of direction from the past; a way to avoid catastrophe, the right way and the wrong way, with a punctuation mark at the end of it.

It was in the first dog days of summer that I started to notice them, everywhere. Like being quietly followed by figures of speech, I was astonished by how often they were used by me, and around me.  And a few weeks into June, as I combed over the calendar & my fast and furious wedding season, I thought of the very best one.        

* Wear your heart on your sleeve.
After a little more than 40 weddings spanning 5 months, I have seen a pretty wide variety of styles and personalities within the amazing spaces throughout Colorado. The truth is, I am getting to know my state better than I ever have.
Seraphim Fire Photography
Driving to places like Nathrop (Listed as a Colorado ghost town), Beautiful Evergreen, or my most recent personal favorite,  Grand Lake.
(Which I had never visited before July of this year, and now I find myself planning sneaky ways to head west on I-70. Perhaps a milkshake from Dairy King is in order?)
Oh the places you'll go.

The most tremendous thing about all this adventure, other than the traveling  & pleasing visual atmosphere, is the awareness that I have from it.

In turn, I have new gratitude as I watch (& capture) all these people sharing their own thanks, for one another.

Seraphim Fire Photography 
 Seraphim Fire Photography Seraphim Fire Photography

Like a very bossy fly on the wall, I am given the gift of documenting people’s choices. To show off their style, or their love of music, the outdoors, or God.
And each time, no matter what those choices might be, It is the authenticity of true love that always remains the same.

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Seraphim Fire Photography

Seraphim Fire Photography

* Go for broke.  
In January of 2012 I received a phone call from a woman in the Denver area that was embarking on her own small start up making handmade Polish Pierogi, using her own grandmother’s recipes. 

Seraphim Fire Photography
Her goal was to keep the food natural and the visual marketing creative & simple. I was hired to shoot a few commercial images for her product packaging, and now more than a year and a half later I have designed her website, and helped her brand and market her now very popular product.
(I confess, not only am I completely hooked on her sauerkraut & wild mushroom pierogi, I am hooked on  her warmth & friendship as well.)

Anna Postek, owner of Bistro Charlotte, is a shining example of what a little gumption & a lot of dedication can do for your future, and for our local community. Visit her at http://www.bistrocharlotte.us  & support local business.
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*The apple of my eye.
Many of my bookings, when I am not surrounded by the bliss of young lovers, are still dedicated to the pretty young;  with no shortage of love either.  And in the last few years, many of my clients also happen to be old friends.
Introducing Hudson Maley, whose parents I have known since 2003…
Seraphim Fire Photography
I am beginning to think that If the eyes are the window to the soul, then our children are the door. Because as the years continue rolling forward, and more of my dear friends have children of their own, there seems to be a change in their capacity for joy.
Like something opens up, and lets the air in.

Seraphim Fire Photography Seraphim Fire Photography 

Seraphim Fire Photography
That is not to say that those of us that have not taken that plunge are without joy, because my very large glass of wine right here suggests otherwise…and it’s 3 pm on a Sunday.
What I see instead is that in a new way they are able to see themselves and their impact through small but very clear eyes.
No wonder then, with each chance that I get to spend time documenting a family together, I feel a little bit like a part of their crew.
MaleyFamily_Hudson6monthsPortrait_Web Seraphim Fire Photography Seraphim Fire Photography Seraphim Fire Photography

* True blue.
A few weeks before Mindy & Levi Davis celebrated their first year of marriage, I received an email request from her to plan a WW2 themed boudoir session for her military sweetheart. So, In the days leading up to our session I searched for a venue that would do justice to Mindy’s delicate features and show off just how perfectly suited she is for the 1940’s pin-up style.

Seraphim Fire Photography

Seraphim Fire Photography Seraphim Fire Photography

When the day finally arrived, we chose the Wings Over the Rockies Museum, where in the early hours of morning we prepared Mindy for her close up in a 40,000 square foot hanger built in 1939.

Seraphim Fire Photography Seraphim Fire Photography
At the end of the day, I felt that familiar gratitude creeping in under the door. Because I used a very heart felt passion to help someone else express their love, and the opportunity came with a history lesson.
I want to thank all of our service men and women for their on going sacrifice.
Also, thanks to Rachel Seymour from The Wings Over the Rockies Air and Space Museum, for setting us up with such a tremendous space to work with. 

* A light at the end of the tunnel.
This particular idiom is usually used in times of struggle, but I think that the light is always there. Like idioms or history, trying to give us some direction when things don’t seem so clear cut. Seraphim Fire Photography


Seraphim Fire Photography

Seraphim Fire Photography Seraphim Fire Photography
Maddie_SunshineBeauitful_web TroudtLovelyLoveStory_web

For some of us, it is our instinct to follow it…
and spread it all around.

Help us spread the light by sharing this post with a friend.
Or visit http://www.seraphimfire.com to book a session.

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Life of Pie & Corresponding Theories on Memory.

Over the last twenty years, I have collected hundreds of images. And in that time they have started to look different to me or to say something new. Either way, they have defined moments in my life and given me new ways to feel about the things that I could not change. They have even acted on behalf of my memory, kindly replacing the characters from those pictures with the cast of my own life. I have postcards from almost every place that I have traveled, torn pages from magazines that I can no longer remember ever having. And even after the numbers of them have multiplied, perhaps growing out of hand, I always know when one is missing.
I have to go searching for it, and grow sad as each hour passes, and finally forces me to let it go.
Now, I try to photograph all of them (or scan them) whenever possible, and Drew laughs at the concept.
A copy of an image, in order to preserve a memory.
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The human memory, with its web like structure, is an amazing process. If you haven’t read up recently, ideas about how memory works have evolved. When I first started researching the topic I, like many people, treated my memory as just another part of my body. I would exclaim that in addition to near sightedness, I had a bad memory.
It turns out, I was being more short sighted than near sighted right then.
Now, when I smell my mothers perfume, grown thick and sticky around the edges of an antique glass bottle, the path of that memory follows exactly the same one that it did 23 years ago, as I stood leaning hard against a white laminate countertop, short enough to have to squint my small eyes to look up at her. The many different areas of my brain, linked together by the hippocampus, will begin to fire and in a flash I can see her there in front of me, and hear her voice down low in the folds of my auditory cortex.

I was unaware of it, I think, but this concept may have contributed on that first day that I picked up the camera, aiming it all around & feeling assisted by indisputable captures;
the light that stained that film was to be the blueprints to my future.

And because I understood, even then, that things remembered can bend toward the subjective, it was not enough just to remember.

Life must be Documented.
Shannon&Ben_B&W_LeanbackontreekissBlog

And then, in the summer of 2007, I traveled all the way to Istanbul Turkey to wander blindly through ancient country.
Turkishflag_Blog BoatOnwater_blog IMG_4087 TurkishFish_blog
   ReganinTurkey_bio2007_web TurkishFisherman_webblog B&W_Turkishmansface_web Birdsfly_colorprint_tattooPosiible_web
I remember miles & miles of olive groves, & cats everywhere, & Incredibly good food. (I love olives and tomatoes.)
I remember sitting way up in a tree, at a meditation camp that we literally stumbled upon, and feeling that things would be changing soon.
I remember drinking red wine with complete strangers, and breathing deeply in all the amazing possibilities ahead of me.
But the air does change, it has to. We change. And thanks to hundreds of images I can return again, anytime I want, to the City of Ephesus, or sit alone in those olive groves.
(Miles of repetition; a comfort to my senses that use to surprise me.)
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Despite all of that, what I remember most was the conversation that my two companions and I shared on our very last night in that amazing Republic.
A conversation that was the start of the change that I had been sensing all the way up in that tree.
We talked about pie. LifeofPie_Blog111

Selim Morelevi is a native to Istanbul and four years my senior. We had never met until the day that I arrived there, along side his long time friend Christopher.
It took us a little over 6 hours to bloom though, falling open like books, spilling stories forth like small children. It was 21 days later, as we sat in the dark at a small cafe table; Selim giggling as I reluctantly sampled beef tongue for the first time.
As much as I remember the test of that strange cuisine, and the various colored lights that speckled the Galata bridge, I can not remember how the conversation started. But Selim illustrated the space in front of him with a concept and Chris & I looked on, shaking our heads in agreement; like a head bangers ball, all enthusiastic.
He said that he looked at life like pie, prioritizing each piece carefully, things like family & relationships, hobbies & whatever career you choose.
“You can have as many pieces as you want, but there’s only so much to go around. Your pieces get thinner and thinner as you try to add more, and frankly at that point they stop fulfilling you.” He smiled and looked down right then, and I knew that he was proud of his metaphor. Christopher sat to my left, distracted. He was thinking about all of his pieces, counting them silently on fingers under the table.

I know that this is no new concept, and there were certainly no theorems to put down on paper that evening, but six years later I still think about it, and I call it memory pie.

memoryPieBlog

I think what fascinated me most about what I learned in all my reading about memory was the concept expressed by Dr. Fiona McPherson on ‘the role of emotional memory.’
She supports the idea that how we feel directly affects what we see, and therefor, what we remember. It seems to me that if this is true, and in turn we repeat those paths each time, we should treat ourselves and our memories delicately;
taking care of what must last. Like our bodies, or the earth.

Because our memory is always taking pictures.
Copying down images to preserve what was there.
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Feedback is encouraged and as always, thank you so much for visiting Seraphim Fire Photography. finalSFP22

The space between romance & reality.

There is a space between, open like a green belt, in the midst of all our choices I figure. It is a space to first be quiet, and then make a move forward or back or to the side. In this space, we are free to remain still however, with reality on one side and romance on the other. Both are possible in this open space, and no decisions need yet be made.
But then, of course, life happens and we are thrown gleefully forward…..

he reason for all this forward motion has to be so that we can grow. So that we can fall in love and evolve and be surprised; most of the time, surprised by ourselves, with all that we are capable of.

When I was younger, during the time of adolescence, I would ride my bike all over the neighborhood until dusk would suddenly break, leaving me to rush home, racing the sunset. My pedals would spin so fast that my feet couldn’t keep up, and the strength of this supposed ‘inanimate object’ would fight against me. I admit, I enjoyed that feeling. The somewhat reckless speed made it fun, and after all it was forward motion.

With all of the different ways to approach a situation, I usually chose the optimist’s. I try to activate the more logical parts of me too, but my emotions are certainly driving the bus. So over the years my friends and I have adopted the awesome ability to ‘seesaw’. Long after we have left the playground we still support each other with balance by trying to find a way to stay up when the other is down, or keep the other from floating away when their mind has ascended; daydreamy in the wide open space of possibility. Not too terribly far away from romance & reality.
(Now that I really think about it, our term is much more appropriate than I had realized. If we could only see what we now saw?… or something like that.)

…that’s the underlying sort of poetry.

A few years ago, I found an image by Imogen Cummingham, of an unmade bed full of hair pins. It was seductive but undefinably innocent. In a way this image seemed childish to me, but I could never explain why?
What I did know was that it captured apart of my heart. Then & now, I wanted this to be the snapshot of my life.

The way the scene seemed to change each day from adventure to lazy Sunday. It captured such a simple essence of what made everyday life beautiful. It was not childish at all.

It wasn’t until the other morning, when I woke up nose to nose with my black labrador, Carl, that I realized that I am getting down to the grain of that shot.        (although slightly altered in composition.) Lifes momentum is seductive & innocent indeed, but it is not fixed. The balance is created by all that growth and of course, forward movement.

So we continue watching the woman we call our sisters move into being mothers…and our children change from babies to boys. And we try to capture it, with our cameras or our pens or with the everyday things…. and we hold on to it in that sweet slow space between romance & reality.

“Love is friendship set on fire.”

These last few weeks have given themselves over, lush with experiences that started my heart strings strummin’. It is here that I wish to share with you all the places and faces. However, now that I sit, trying to string together a proper time line, it has become a mental windstorm, moving memories around and creating quite a mess.

What follows is the result; a photographic catalog. (with some help from my very scribbled over day timer…)

Bella Baby Photography opens Littleton Hospital. A little over forty babies in two weeks between four photographers, prove that not all babies are alike, and see the love of new families spring up all around me…  

Get a call from my sweet Jana  who invites me to see Neko Case and Judy Collins!
Spend an evening worshipping the sounds of folk music  and wild laughter…

Send mail to my soldier, and enjoy a day with my grandma.
Get a call to do maternity portraits for a friend of a friend, drive to Colorado Springs, find some time for Yoga, edit maternity images, fall in love with my adorable new friend.

Three days later…   Baby Grace is born.

Drive again to Colorado Springs. Celebrate Grace.  

Spend the next two days with Foster and Amelia. Teach Foster how to peel the skin off of a grapefruit, and we play with trains…

Get my chance to use crayons for the first time in years…

Dig into the SFP archives for an old image from my Crest Stone editorial,  send it to the lab for a print order, fulfill a dream of selling my art, come alive  from said fulfillment….  

Finally meet little Della….
Spend a day at home watching the snow pile up around my  window, study the affect of physical affection, write a new letter and back up my work. Meet up with an old friend from high school, play in Cheeseman Park with her two beautiful daughters, successfully capture their joy…  

Played some darts…. But not very well….

enjoyed amazing conversation with friends over dinner late in the week. Remembered a quote from that dinner:

“Be conscious of self, but not self conscious.”


For more information or to set up a portrait session,
please contact Regan Beisenherz @ Info@seraphimfire.com or call 970.371.8282

Thanks for all the love and support!

The mysterious history of Valentine’s Day.

It is in my humble opinion that some of the most romantic stories that I have ever heard, are old one’s. Old enough that the people involved have gone forward, and left only the stories themselves as representation.
“ah, things remembered.”
There is an inherent romance in the history of things, for so many different reasons. In the simple ways that they evolve, the ways that they improve, or if they do not. There is also an enormous power there.
The difference is that history as opposed to memory is not singular, but inevitably still some how so personal.

Consider this:

In Rome, during the third century, it is rumored that a priest serving under the emperor Claudius II went rogue, making himself a legend. His name was Valentine, and after a law was passed banning marriage in an effort to strengthen the troops frame of mind, Valentine continued to preform marriages in secret. Once discovered, the priest was sentenced to death and spent his last days publicly worshipped by all the young couples that he had helped.

There is another story about an imprisoned man named Valentine, (perhaps the same man?) that fell madly in love with the daughter of his jailer. The night before his death he passed her a letter,
the words “from your Valentine” written across the top of the page.              

When you have known some one long enough, their mannerisms become a small comfort in the day. Their reactions soak into your own ability to learn and grow, and can give you strength to make better choices for yourself. That awareness of someone else, when really considered, is an amazing side effect. It is the construction of memories, and in the long run
History.

So it is true that this holiday can have a flinch inspiring effect. It can so easily become about the time that dinner is ready, or how much you were able to spend, and how you will be interpreted?
There is no time for all that.

Loving is so much simpler than we realize.
Easier than mac and cheese or changing the clock on your car stereo, and forget about riding a bike…
Our capacity to celebrate is endless, so go on in celebrating each other.  As usual with things of this nature, (life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness) it is your participation that is paramount.

Happy Valentine’s Day from