On Family Photos

When Winnie was born, I received the beautiful gift of a “Fresh 48” portrait session from my friend Amy of Amy Murgatroyd Portraits + Films. (All the images in this post are from that session.) I’m completely enamored of these photos. I talk a big talk about photography, but I too have to be intentional about remembering to walk the walk in my own life. Because these images reminded me for the millionth time how incredibly important and precious photographs can be.

We remember the bones of our stories – where we were, who was there – but it’s all the little details we’re prone to forgetting – the style of our hair, the wrinkles on our skin, the colors, the light, the space, the feeling. These details are precious and add to the richness of how we remember.

Before Winnie arrived, I had grand ambitions of taking many photos of her. I would capture her in her room, wrapped sweetly in a muslin swaddle. I would document her details. I would create daily art from her existence. She would challenge me to find and capture more beauty in the every day.

While that intention is still very present for me, three weeks later, I have only picked up my camera a couple of times. My cell phone camera roll is full of impromptu photos of her goofy milk drunk face and her arms splayed above her head as she sleeps in her crib. But as for my big documentary intentions, my beautiful, meaningful compositions, well… When she is sleeping in my arms, there’s no tripod at the ready. When she fusses late into the night, all I want is to soothe her, not get out my camera. Yet I fear that when I don’t reach for it, some tiny piece of her story may be forever lost in time.

So I’m grateful for Amy. And for that early day, in the thick of Winnie’s newness and freshness, when I moved the intentions out of my hands and trusted them to someone else.

Thank you, Amy, for these images. I will always cherish these memories.