bits of california on 35mm

I shot these on a trip to Salvation Mountain and Palm Springs a few years ago. Expired film in my Minolta x-370. I don't shoot with film much lately, but I'm trying to remedy that. I've been shooting with my dad's Canon A-1 for a new photo project this year. It's supposed to be a daily photo thing, but these twin babes are keeping me busy to the point where I've been forgetting here and there. But even if I can do a couple photos a week, that's fine by me. I have so many rolls of new and expired film laying around the house, so I want to put them to good use this year :)

dear vincent

Dear Vincent,

It's amazing that the first photo I have of you is a microscopic image of an embryo. A clump of five cells that kept growing, and growing. And when you were born 40 seconds after Hazel, you were all spindly arms and legs. I was scared and anxious when you had to stay in the NICU longer than your sister, and on the day we brought you home, I was relieved, but terrified. Could I really do this?

My baby boy. You look so much like your daddy. He thinks you might end up with red hair, which runs in his family. I'm not so sure, but you are perfect in every way.

You're so curious, so strong. You started lifting your head when it seemed way too early for you to do so, and you eat with an eagerness that I know all too well from living with your dad. I know the ticklish spots on your chest, and I know your different cries.

I love watching you play on the floor mat. I love it when you recognize my face and smile. I don't love that you've quickly outgrown your newborn and three month-sized clothing, but that's okay. You're sprouting before my very eyes, and I'm trying to relish it all while I can.

I can't wait to see the person you'll become. I hope that I can show you how to be brave, be honest, and to crave adventure.

You are my adventure. I will always love you.

dear hazel

Dear Hazel,

 When the doctors pulled you out of my body, you cried louder than I expected, and I wept. You weighed four pounds and 10 ounces. That number sounded impossibly small. You spent only two days in the NICU, my strong little girl. You were ready to come home, ready for the world.

We kept you bundled and swaddled nearly all the time, afraid you would get too cold. You slept and you ate, and we held you and rocked you, hoping we were doing things right, simultaneously scared and thrilled that we were finally parents. Your parents.

I love that I can see bits of your grandparents in your face. I love your tiny feet. I love how you always stretch your arms above your head when you wake up.

You have your dad completely smitten for you. He called you his Hazel-bug the first day we brought you home, and he hasn't stopped since. He plays guitar for you, and he wants to read everything to you, from Calvin & Hobbes to Lord of the Rings.

I love watching you grow. The first time I got you to smile at me, I melted. I can't wait to witness your first wobbly steps, and the faces you're bound to make when you try new foods.

You won't stay little forever, and that's okay. You will grow into a beautiful human being with your own hopes and dreams. But I will always be your mother.

I will always love you.

an ode to east coast fog

I haven't lived on the east coast since 2008. From the time I was in 8th grade until five years into my marriage, I lived in Virginia. And it wasn't until I moved away from Virginia and across the Atlantic Ocean to Spain that I really started to miss what I never really appreciated before. The trees. The change of seasons. Leaves the color of fire. And not just in Virginia -- Pennsylvania too, where my husband's family lives, and where we visited often.

I think what I miss the most is the moody, foggy weather that those two places can bring. Especially during the fall. Living in southern Spain for three and a half years, and then southern California for the past four, brought me plenty of sun and palm trees, dry heat and 70 degree winters. But sometimes I just want to be surrounded by some moody weather. By trees transitioning into the colder weather. A layer of low-hanging clouds that make you shiver and leave your skin damp.

East coast fog, I miss you.

personal work // blended portraits

New year, new blog post! 2016 feels so weird to type, like we're living in the future. I'm not ready for it. But on the plus side, I was inspired to give the 'ole blog a makeover, so I did. New theme layout, more minimal, and it just feels more like me. And today, I want to take a break from the momming/twin posts, and share some portrait work I did back in 2014.

I wanted to do something interesting with some of the portraits in my archives, and I was partly inspired by my ego sum series, where I merged bits of nature to my own self-portraits. I created some of these images on my iPhone using the Image Blender app, and I created others in Photoshop.

The original portrait of Mio was from a fashion shoot collaboration back in 2014 (which I just realized I never blogged about! Must. Remedy.), and the rain on glass image was something I shot at home.

I merged a photo of foggy woods from a trip to the east coast with a portrait of Kristina that I took in Yosemite. Sometimes I have to experiment with blending different background images until I find a combination that just feels right and looks right.

I love this one so much. I shot this portrait of Kaila in my studio, and months later, I snapped the background image with my phone at a car wash from inside my car. Instead of soapy bubbles, I saw something that reminded me of the cosmos, something otherworldly. In Photoshop, I added the light effects around Kaila's face.

I shot a beautiful series of nudes of my dear friend Debbie, and decided to merge one of them with a simple iPhone shot of a succulent plant. You can see the original image of Debbie here.

Another portrait of Mio merged with tree and sky from my backyard.

I decided to play around with an older self-portrait from 2012 and blend it with a coastline image from Big Sur. I did this one in the Blender Image app, so the image quality isn't great, but I still quite like it.

And now I'm inspired again to create more of these this year :)

fox & wren // two months

I realized I never blogged the babes' two month photos, so I shall do them now, even though these were taken almost a month ago. Needless to say, momming has been keeping me busy!

They've both gained a good amount of weight, especially Vincent! The boy loves eating. All. The. Time. Hazel is way more nonchalant when it's feeding time. Even when she's really hungry, she doesn't take the bottle as excitedly as Vincent does. He's a gulper, barely taking a breath while he eats, while she savors her meal and takes her time, much like the Spanish did when I lived there for three years. My little cultured baby.

Those pointed toes kill me.

Somewhere between six and eight weeks, they both kinda figured out the difference between day and night and started sleeping better at night between feedings. "Better" as in "not having to soothe a crying baby every 10 minutes." I'm not sure how or why, but they've gotten to be pretty good sleepers at night. Granted, we're still getting up every three to four hours to feed them, but generally, as soon as we put them down in their cribs, they know it's sleep time. So far. I know that whole four month sleep regression thing is supposedly coming up, so I'm relishing these days while I can.

And the best part? They've started smiling at us! On purpose! They know we exist! Hazel is a bit more smiley than her brother, but when I greet them in the morning and pick them up out of their beds, and they smile at me in recognition, my heart melts. Their sweet faces are worth all the sleep deprivation in the world.

fox & wren // their first christmas

Merry Everything from my family to yours :)