I learned this week that photographing someone with bubbles is much harder when you’re also the person trying to blow the bubbles, so enjoy our bubble-less bubble photos. I’ll likely try to redo these with help at some point during the next 43 weeks. We’re almost 20% into the 52 project already and I feel like the babies are already so different. It’s hard to imagine how they’ll even look a year from now, but I’m thankful I’ll have the photos to look back on while they were still this small.
Week 8: A fishbowl (or tank really)
This is one of those photos that I can see them finding years from now and just reminiscing fondly over. It’s the kind of photo I would have loved to find from my own childhood.
Week 7: Heirlooms
As a generally sentimental person, the idea of heirlooms is on my mind often, and it was especially this week. A sweet friend of ours passed down this rocking chair to us that she had been rocked in as a child more than 50 years ago, and knowing that I’ll get to watch my children grow alongside it is a sweet gift.
In keeping with those thoughts, I put Eisley in the same bonnet harley had worn as a baby, barely 6 months old, and all the memories just rushed back. I’ll tuck it away when all my babies outgrow it so that their babies can wear it some day too.
I even pulled out my grandma’s vintage silk scarf to wear for the self portrait, a sweet nod to the woman who I still see so much of in my face and in the face of my children. Children she never even got a chance to meet.
How precious it is to build a life to document it so sweetly so that one day my children’s children can have a glimpse into days they could only imagine. This is often why I take photos.
Week 6: New hope
It’s already week six and if I’m being honest, I’ve already noticed a shift here. I’m reaching for my camera more in every day life. I’m seeing more magic in the every day moments. It’s become a sweet rhythm. Instead of sitting with my camera for long periods, I’m picking it up for a minute or two here and there and just snapping a photo. I think as much as I’ve always done this on my phone, this feels much more intentional, and the memories captured have a different feeling.
I even added a self portrait this week. Even on a week that has felt absolutely exhausting, I’m excited and expectant for what the rest of this project holds.
Week 5: A mishmash
In true life with littles form, this week was anything but calm or quiet. But it was beautiful nonetheless. The kids adventured and explored. We practiced new rhythms and fine tuned old ones. We even had a few gloriously warm days in the midst of the cool winter ones and got outside as much as possible.
I leaned into texture and motion and blur. I fell back in love with the way the light comes through the windows of our basement. I picked up my camera often, and freely, and just loved creating for the sake of creating which was the whole hope of this project.
This week felt like reliving a tiny piece of childhood through my children’s eyes, and while it was not without its challenges, it certainly offered a hopeful glimmer of how life can look.
Week 4: An unexpected portrait
If I’m being honest, this is the first week of the project where I’ve really struggled on what to photograph. Partly because life was just really busy, and partly because my mind was still elsewhere. Sunday afternoon rolled around and I pulled out my camera because I had to. I was committed to taking a photo, even if I wasn’t excited about it.
My littlest was down for a nap and my toddler was glued to some tv show on the iPad, but I knew it would be worth it to draw his attention elsewhere. I grabbed a few cameras from my collection and offered them to him to look at, something I’ve honestly never done before.
His little voice saying “chamera” with too many letters was my favorite thing. He quickly realized that the camera’s I had handed him weren’t actually shooting. They were just pretending to shoot, and he wanted the real thing. He pointed to my camera, and apprehensively I handed it to him, tucking the strap around his neck and helping him cup his little fingers under the lens to support the weight.
I showed him which button to press to shoot, and how to angle the lens.
His little face lit up as he pressed the shutter over and over again and saw my face pop up on the back of the screen. “Momma.”
When I went to take my camera back, he grabbed the strap and put it back around his neck. “Harley’s turn.” I let him take a few more shots.
I haven’t talked a lot, or really at all, about autism here, but the truth is that things like this are huge milestones for my tiny boy. His communication has bloomed the last few weeks, particularly as he’s gotten so into painting. Hearing him communicate with so many words is a milestone I didn't know that we’d ever reach, and such a gift.
For the first time in a while, I’m feeling really hopeful about his future. That he’ll find things he loves, that bring him so much joy. That even in the midst of struggles, he’ll be okay.
It’s rare to get photos of him so still, and these are such a treasure for my mama heart. Wild that the photos I took on a day I just didn’t feel like it have ended up being my favorite.
Swipe to the end to see his very first portrait, taken at just three years old, a photo of his mama.
Week 3: A winter wonderland
Perhaps a more appropriate title would be Week 3: Where art thou sanity
Tennessee has been blanketed in white for most of the week, which has meant a week at home with the kids. For anyone with small children, you pretty much know that day one snowed in is magical. By day three, you have to get really creative.
Other than covid, this is really the longest I’ve ever been inside without being able to leave my house, and I think that forced me to really process a lot this week. In between the bustle of trying to keep a normal work life rhythm and trying to help keep the kids entertained, I thought a lot about those days trapped inside in 2020 and I felt my mental health tugged in a way it hasn’t been in a long time.
I pushed myself even harder to create. To push limits with my work and the stories I wanted to tell. I picked up illustration again, and even though I spent more time being frustrated with that than anything, I’m proud of the progress I made there.
I thought about my daily rhythms. The ones I put in place to keep me moving steadily forward, even on the days I’d rather stay curled up in bed. It’s really true that we become the thoughts and things we do repetitively. I thought about what rhythms I want to carry me forward, moving into a fresh year.
I also asked myself a lot of really hard questions about parenting. About what I want the kids to remember. I spent the week cooking absolutely everything from scratch and it was a slow steady rhythm that I really liked, and so I asked myself what I want their relationship to food to be when they get older. About what I hope their answers will be someday when someone asks them about their childhood.
Motherhood has given me pause. It’s ignited a tenacity and a hope in the stories that we are building, daily, just by existing in this space with them. This project is doing the same, and for that I’m so grateful.
Week 2: Light, shadows, and dirty windows
I remember reading a quote years ago that talked about how art doesn't have to be pretty, it’s supposed to make you feel something.
How often do we forget that? In a society that values pretty above all else, how often do we cling to things that just feel a little.. empty? Curated.
We’re taught to want a curated life. A life worthy of social media likes and the approval of strangers. I know I’ve been just as guilty of that as anyone else, but goodness, I pray that’s not the legacy I leave for my children.
I want to create art that makes people feel. That captures the heartbeat of life, not just the beauty of it.
Week 1: An investment
Painting with Grandma and Grandpa
For every set, I’m asking myself questions. For this one in particular, it was “what do I want them to remember?”
Painting with grandma and grandpa on a sunday afternoon. Something that is so simple but so formative for their tiny hearts. These precious moments of being invested in by the people who love them.
An Intro to the 52 Week Project
Happy New Years friends.
I’m not one for new years resolutions, but I’m all about growth, and challenging myself, and chasing after things that make my heart feel so full. In the chaos and busyness of full time freelance, I thing I lost sight of the joy I find in just documenting my own little family. A sweet friend reminded me to slow down and just soak it all in. That this was what it was about after all: just the love of it.
This year I am challenging myself to take one photo a week with the hope of capturing the beating heart of our family and daily life. I want to document my sweet babies as they grown and bloom. For this project, I’m asking myself questions like “what do I want my kids to remember one day?” “How do I want these images to feel?” “What story am I telling with this?”
There is magic in the every day. In the simple moments, at home with them.