It’s got to have he(art).

May 13, 2014May 14, 2014 ~ Seraphim Fire Photography ~ Leave a comment

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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.

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.

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.

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

[MASS NOUN]
• literary
The quality of being dark or shadowy.
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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.

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.

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

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. … …

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.

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.

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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.

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As always, thank you for visiting Seraphim Fire Photography.
Please visit our website for more information on booking and/or visiting our studio.

http://www.seraphimfire.com

Love,

Things on paper.

September 15, 2013September 30, 2013 ~ Seraphim Fire Photography ~ Leave a comment

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…

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.

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.

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?)

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.

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.

* 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.

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.
Seraphim Fire Photography

*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…

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.

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.

* 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.

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.

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.

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.

Life of Pie & Corresponding Theories on Memory.

February 4, 2013February 4, 2013 ~ Seraphim Fire Photography ~ Leave a comment

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.
kidsinfountainweb

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.

And then, in the summer of 2007, I traveled all the way to Istanbul Turkey to wander blindly through ancient country.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

Whatever the reason. (or season.)

May 27, 2012May 27, 2012 ~ Seraphim Fire Photography ~ 2 Comments

Prelude.
One of the most wonderful things about writing is that you can look back on how you have been feeling, and how your perspective has changed. In the past my battle with this blog has been slow and steady bouts of writers block followed by intense focus and eventually, a common thread. One worth sharing.

The past four months have been quite different, and so full of experiences that the writing just appeared each day, like it did in my much younger years.
And even though the common thread (now pretty frayed from so much use) is so long it dangles behind me when I walk, and has become difficult to manage even; it still seems worth sharing.
So forgive me for taking so long and for a few disconnections, but stay with it. Because nothing worth doing is ever easy. And some lessons can take a while to learn.

February.
I don’t know if everything truly happens for a reason. But I do like the comfort of the message. I also like stories with a narrator, with their omniscient nature and the promise of balance in things. February reminded me of how much I enjoy what I do, and how even the simplest encouragement can push us forward.

At the start of the month I shot an event with a dear friend of mine, Jana Everett, for a new business in the up and coming Highland area of Denver. The Tea Bar has become part of a local Triad with The Green Garage, and The Motherhood. All three are located in one very large space, and offer Green options galore. The Motherhood has educational classes, yoga and products for new families, while the Green Garage is an eco-friendly full service auto center. In between the two you will find the Tea Bar by Teatulia, chock-full of delicious options including infused tea sodas; an invention that they were giving out the night of the grand opening. My favorite was a strawberry tea soda infused with lemon grass. I started to feel spring creep in when I would drink it, despite the cold and windy weather outside. By the end of the night we saw a few hundred people pass through the space, and between the band playing in the garage, Teacup the Clown, Joy’s face painting and free children’s yoga, I was moving and snapping the entire time.

The following weekend I had the pleasure of shooting a B’not Mitzvah for All Digital Studios in Lafayette, Colorado. The event took place at the Lions Gate, a huge interior location with dark wood and a giant stained glass window face. It is one of the most challenging places to shoot, but I adore its vintage touches. It was my first mitzvah of any kind and a really beautiful tradition to witness. This particular occasion is called a B’not Mitzvah because it honors two girls (sisters in this case) that are accepting the responsibility of adulthood. It made perfect sense to me as I watched that the tradition called for tremendous focus in education and philanthropy. There was also singing in Hebrew, which I think is a feat in and of itself. The girls finished their ceremony without any mistakes and I saw the Hora for the first time. I admit for a minute that I wished to set my camera down and join them on the dance floor.

A few days later I received an email from Joy Knickerbocker, a fellow artist that I had met the night of the Tea Bar Grand Opening. Joy was reaching out in an effort to connect and to also collect some images that I had taken of her that night. After reading the blog she said,“Your writing somehow felt like it was watering my soul as I was reading it.”
And I was reminded exactly why I started this blog to begin with. Because I wanted to share my work and inspire others, and in that moment I felt so successful and full. She went on to remind me that I was due for another entry, and that night inspired by what she said, I sat at my computer for a few hours writing about duality and learning about its corresponding theories in physics.
When I finally retired for the night, I said a little prayer for Joy and I slept so well that I didn’t dream at all.

March.
It was in the first few weeks of March that I realized that I could count on one hand the months left until our wedding day. In quiet moments I could close my eyes and look back on all the change and patience and distance covered in the past three years. In those moments I could feel, very physically, my pride in Drew and all our growth.
During one of these quiet moments, in the middle of the afternoon, Drew called me at work to tell me that he had mailed our invitations. When I came home I saw that the little red flag on the mailbox had laid down. Like an excited child I peered inside to make sure that they had really gone.

I never thought I would be so happy to see our mailbox, empty.

A few days later I got an email from Yellow Paddle informing me that I had a client looking to do an engagement shoot in the next few days. Mindy and Levi had a very similar story to my own. He was in the military and they had known each other for years. I swear, as I watched them together on that sunny afternoon my heart swelled. Their love was so genuine and she watched him with adoration as he told me their plans. Our session went on for almost two hours and if I hadn’t any other appointments that day I could have stayed on into twilight. Love has in it so many possibilities. And with my camera I tried to capture all of them.

April.
It was well into April when I had a truly ‘terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.’ And even though I loved the book as a child, it seemed not nearly as funny when one morning I woke up to a very flooded basement and no hot water. Later that afternoon I would learn that my car was due for some very costly and time sensitive repair, and so I called into work and sat waiting for our ‘super’, while Drew ran to the hardware store. As I watched him drive away I looked up at a looming storm and thought that perhaps my mood had brought it on.

It is in these moments, usually forced upon us, that we can give thanks for the good days and realize that maybe they wouldn’t be so good, without the bad one’s. I wrote at my desk for nearly an hour before our doorbell rang, and in the end I was thankful for the inconvenience. It was the first day off that I had seen in 10. And our kitchen floor was finally clean.

The following day I borrowed Drew’s car and visited one of my oldest friends and her husband in order to shoot their very first maternity session.

For those of you that have followed Seraphim Fire, you may recognize this lovely couple from their wedding shots posted last year. I have known Sassy since college and this day she helped me complete a dream of mine. To steadily capture the growth of a couple as they move through love and into a family. She is an even more beautiful mother than she was a bride, and a terrific friend. Congratulations Mr. & Mrs Allender…

May.
It was actually the dogs that helped me notice all the time that had passed. That suddenly May was here and instead of snow we had sunshine all around us. We found a new hiking trail in Morrison and I could wear short sleeves and the dogs could swim.
I have always loved this change of the season. It feels to me, like a crush. Something you wake up thankful for and look forward to. The heat is comfortable, welcomed even, and my skin slowly darkens by the end of the day.

Thanks to February, March and April I was able to enjoy so deeply all the experiences that I was sharing with my family, and soak in all the love that was being given to me. Three weekends out of the month were dedicated to bridal showers and celebrations for my up coming marriage to Drew.
I shot as much as possible but allowed myself the freedom of setting my camera down when we all gathered together. For the first time, perhaps ever, I enjoyed the weightlessness and absence of my camera strap, and I forced myself to remember all these special moments in a new way. Mostly.

I once described love as the light hitting the water, and I really do see it that way. When you are loved and give love back, things can brighten all around you, motivate you, and give you peace.
And despite not having all the answers (and the occasional bad day) that refracted light can help you see far into the distance.
I think, thanks to all these experiences, which I never could have had with out all this love, I understand this concept more than I ever have. And the future looks bright.

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A Travel (B)log: Changing lanes…

December 1, 2011December 1, 2011 ~ Seraphim Fire Photography ~ 5 Comments

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…

Old friend, new love.

September 2, 2011September 25, 2011 ~ Seraphim Fire Photography ~ Leave a comment

In the early fall of 2000 I left the small town of Littleton Colorado and moved north… to an even smaller town just shy of Wyoming. Greeley, Colorado is known for its cows.
But it also features the campus of the University of Northern Colorado, where I was slated to get my teaching degree.

Instead, I noticed how much I really loved the cast of the late afternoon sunshine and the way the corn would glow as it swayed. Little torches for the effort of a long day.
I spent most of my time in the darkroom. But in that first year I also met a group of girls that completely changed my life.
In truth we were all very different, but we flourished around each other, and while doing so we saw deeper within ourselves. I found out that I had a little catholic and a little hippie, A lot of music and some Betty Crocker too.
I took photography classes at night at a nearby community college because the teacher let me stay late, and eventually we became great friends.
(Thank you Dan Templeton, for being someone who saw something special in me.)

Fast forward to July 2011, where on the D.U. campus I would follow one of those very special women as she walked (no, strutted) down the aisle.
Elizabeth Houghteling, known as Sassy, is loaded with spirited grace. She is almost nymph like, and for this very special day she allowed her fresh and lengthy curls to fall around her shoulders.
Andrew, her groom, is calm with all eyes peeled and he thoughtfully attends to her every request. I noticed this trait three months earlier during the engagement shoot in their home.
His posture always alert, but with the aire of a deep breath. (Heh heh heh…)

I think It was actually Sassy, in the depth of our junior year, that stirred some of the first confidences that I had in my talent, and as a photographer.
“Wow, Regan. I have never seen myself this way,” she said. Without looking I could hear a smile as she went on. “I feel so beautiful.”
And that bloom is still on the rose, dear friend.

I want to officially congratulate the new couple, Elizabeth & Andrew Allender.
It was such a pleasure to be a part of your day…
To see the rest of Elizabeth & Andrew’s photos, please visit: http://pictage.com/1075859

If you have enjoyed this blog post, please share it with a friend…

“Let’s stay together.”

July 20, 2011July 21, 2011 ~ Seraphim Fire Photography ~ 2 Comments

There truly is no telling when inspiration will strike. For me, as July just started creeping in, it was on board a 220 heading back to Seattle. I can officially call it a trend now. Whenever I am flying, all those dormant thoughts and considerations are pulled to the top; demanding proper notice. And it is not conversation that I want. I long for clean lines on a page, or the familiar click of my keyboard. (Secretly, I wish it was more the clank and clutter of my typewriter. But TSA would have a field day with that.)

Heading west from Chicago Midway, I sat there in an aisle seat thinking about age and memory. I think that ageing is miraculous because it makes us all collectors of people and things that, thanks to our amazing cognitive skill, link themselves to memory. When I catch a glimpse of my tattoos (a moon and baker’s dozen of stars across my upper back) I always recall how I felt the day that I got them. I felt brave and independent, but I had support all around me.
Like all the stars in the sky.

Most of you can relate to this, but if you still need proof, think of your senses. Your mother’s cooking, your grandfather’s aftershave, or the combination of the outdoors and a specific bottle of wine. The sight of the label makes you smile all alone in the grocery store, and even though the memories sometimes hurt, the power that we have as humans to transport ourselves back in time…
In that way, we are never really separated from anyone.
It is the greatest trick that I have ever learned.

As most of you know, I have been in the home stretch of a deployment with my soldier. Since very early March we have each learned the survival skills necessary to make it through months of rare and scattered conversations over very dodgy phone lines. The time difference is a fascinating 11.5 hours between here and Afghanistan, and obviously there were weeks that we could not match our schedules.

So, to survive the time and reconnect with myself, I planned a trip for the last half of the month of May. I had work waiting for me in Denver, and then I would continue east to Chicago and for the first time really take a look around. I have driven through the windy city twice before, but this would be my first official visit. While there, I would also have the pleasure of watching a very dear friend of mine graduate from Rosalind Franklin Medical school of Chicago.

Lindsey Ann Long is a stunning woman of extreme intelligence. She has also been my best friend since 8^th grade. Although small in frame, her warmth is consuming. And if you could weigh her heart it would read in quadruple digits. I love her more than chocolate. But mostly, I love the way that she can always some how help me see myself in a new way.
A kind and more forgiving way.

And then, while sitting in the Civic Opera house with ‘Pomp & Circumstance’ playing all around me, I allowed myself to pull apart the dense damn that had been blocking some very pushy emotions; holding them back for fear of drowning. I remembered the day that we met, (I wandered into the wrong gym class. A new girl in a new school, a couple hundred miles away from Texas.) The day we separated after high school because we had been accepted to separate colleges (to me it felt like the severing of skin), and now here we were all these years later and not a beat had been skipped. It got me thinking though. What is it about me that attaches so deeply? That feels so passionately locked into a moment? Inevitably, in this fast world, is it a weakness or a gift?

A few years ago I read a quote by Tom Robbins that said:
“I believe in nothing, everything is sacred. I believe in everything, nothing is sacred.”
I loved it. What a very clear call for balance.
(The funny part is, I had always remembered it as being “I love nothing, everything is sacred, I love everything, nothing is sacred.”)
See that’s the thing with memory. It is subjective and personal, and usually… wrong.

There are certain parts of ourselves however, that we simply cannot change. We cannot change our family or our skin. We cannot force ourselves to see farther than we do at one time, and we cannot against all effort, stop being who we are. We can say for a time that we are not that. We can even lie for so long that we believe it to be true, but in my opinion we share just as much nature as we do nurture. The key, I think, is to respect the fundamentals.
I am a lover. I love the earth and all it’s simple textiles.
I love music and travel, and when I am driving long distances I sometime imagine myself a tour bus.

I see now that my passion gives me power.
It lets me show a child what their parents looked like at their age. I have seen them, in that moment, transform. He see’s a completely new person in his father and in my imagination that change creates new pathways for the child. Hopefully, they will be courage’s enough to keep exploring. Because the truth is, our parent’s growth is tandem to our own and the lead is always changing. There is never a moment when they are not capable of surprising you.

A few days before my departure I sat with a girlfriend at the breakfast table, our plates nearly cleaned. I said that I loved getting older because no matter what, it meant improvement.
“Improvement for me means joy, and the word choice is important. Joy is different from happiness, which is actually pretty easy to achieve. If you have a good attitude and a little perspective, happiness is always there. It can lay low, of course, but if you just look around you’ll see it is blended into the scenery. Birds fly around with it, the sky sometimes let’s it fall, joy however is a little more difficult to spot. It is usually a gift, given when you didn’t know you needed some, and it has this familiar but far away smell. Like childhood. Joy is stronger and lasts for a shorter time.“
She laughed when I said all this, and gave me an adoring smile.
“Oh Rea, I just love you.”
And right there, joy joined us at the breakfast table.

Regardless of our age, we are all getting older, everyday. You can argue that as our bodies and minds are developing, that we are gaining, but we are losing too. Along with dexterity (and ah! elasticity) we are losing the ability to love openly.
We feel silly, or embarrassed by strong emotion. We just grow out of falling. I wonder if it is because we are so much further up?

People usually confuse this tragedy with maturing. So we make fun of people who are uninhibited, and we think we know better about the way some one else should be living. And the sort of lame thing about it is that some of us are right. Some people are frustratingly careless about their choices, and some strangers are rude for no reason. Some children do need more discipline and the younger generations will always be out of touch. Even though if you really stop and look, nothing ever really changes. (Good one big guy, good one…)

The problem is that our focus on those things only personifies them, and then the only thing getting drowned out is the light. With out light (and love is that if nothing else) we are incapable of seeing where we are headed. It is a substance that can be directed anywhere you want it to go, allowing it to enhance things already present. When you really love someone you allow them the pleasure of being just what they are, and forgiving the naturally dark parts. You do this because you remember that you yourself have them. You also know their story, their particular struggles and weaknesses, and with patience and understanding you just love them through it. Because you know that really is the only thing.

That’s what the Beatles meant, that is what God is made of (regardless of which one you believe in), and that is what I’m selling here.
Because there are not many living things out there that ever flourished in environments of darkness & containment.

I am setting up the camera now…
Everyone get together.

I am also happy to announce that my sweet heart finally made it home. I want to thank all our friends and family for their support during the deployment. We are blessed.

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Seraphim Fire photography

DOCUMENT LIFE|LOVE|GROWTH

Perspective

It’s got to have he(art).

Things on paper.

Life of Pie & Corresponding Theories on Memory.

Whatever the reason. (or season.)

A Travel (B)log: Changing lanes…

September: Olympia, Anacortes & the San Juan Islands

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

November: Coming home.

Old friend, new love.

“Let’s stay together.”