Returning to Where It All Began

The direction I’m heading with my photography is no surprise—at least not to me. In many ways, it feels like coming home. I’m returning to where I first began: photographing children.

There’s something in those unguarded moments with kids that fills me up in a way nothing else does. It’s joy in its most spontaneous and silliest form. It’s the quiet thrill of catching something real with my camera—a sincere glance or a burst of laughter that seems to come straight from the soul. There is nothing quite like taking pictures of kids!

One of my very first favorite photos—taken not long after I picked up a camera—was of my niece Sarah when she was about 7 years old, who is now 38. That picture still hangs in my studio where I see it every day. Children change in what feels like a blink, but photos let us slow time down a little so we can hold on to something of that moment. Not just what it looked like, but what it felt like. I loved spending time with and laughing with little Sarah, and that picture helps me remember the feeling of being with her at that age.

I’m especially excited to welcome more children into the studio for this year’s Santa Experience—it’s one of my favorite things- full of magic and wonder. But it’s also gotten me thinking: What about the rest of the year? How else can I lean into this part of my creativity that brings me so much meaning and joy?

Recently, I saw some images from a photographer in Poland that stopped me in my tracks. Her name is Iwona Podlasinska, and her photos are so dreamy, tender, and timeless- they speak to my heart. I’ll be joining her in October for a workshop in Houston, Texas. I can’t wait to expand my vision and try some new ideas. Here are a few of her beautiful photos!

My daughters are now 17 and 20, stretching into their own lives, and as I stand on the edge of this next chapter of motherhood, I find myself more drawn than ever to photographing young children. Maybe it’s a way of holding close what’s slipping away in my own life. Maybe it’s a way of giving that gift to others. I feel like it’s both.

I want to keep following the spark—the feeling that tells me, this matters. I want to photograph dancers and dreamers, small hands and bare feet, fleeting expressions and everyday magic.

So here I am, camera in hand, heart wide open, circling back to where it all began… but with a deeper appreciation for what it means to capture something before it disappears.