It Shows All Over My Cheeks

How I shoot, why I shoot

I went to my 20-year college reunion this past weekend. People asked me what I do, as one does at these things, and I replied that I’m a professional photographer. One fellow alumna got deeper: she asked me what kind of photography, and when I replied portraiture, she asked me what kind of portraiture. I told her I like to capture families and engagements, and sometimes I work with brands. She wanted to know more about my process, and I realized after a decade of being a photographer, I still didn’t know how to explain it. People and news outlets have asked me for my process many times before, but I’ve never shared the truth about what’s really behind my shoots, everything of myself I give, and how that feels.

I started trying to explain what I’ve always struggled to: art for me has never been about the materials or the gear. It’s never been about the settings or the surroundings. I could explain the way I use light, motion, angle, and framing— and I have, many times. But truthfully, it’s always been about the story I can tell with my own voice, with instinct that takes over, as I capture the emotion between the subjects.

So I said something like: “I’m always searching for the in-between moments of true connection. If I feel something as I capture it, then the viewer will feel it too. I will take a few posed, smiling photos for grandma, but the rest is me capturing what I feel. On a recent engagement shoot, it was extra special to me because the young man is someone I’ve known since he was a kid: I also took his senior portraits. I saw my own happy marriage in them, the friendship at the base of it all: the way they made each other laugh. The small ways they considered and supported one another. There were moments where I teared up as I worked, because of their sweet connection and that history.”

That emotion I felt as I captured is how I knew I had captured exactly what I wanted.

With another recent shoot, a mother and daughter, my heart was pulled for a few reasons. It’s just the two of them and their pup in their sweet family, and I have photographed a few single moms who have felt awkward about taking family photos without a partner. I hate that, and want to show them they look like a complete family already. And, personally for this shoot in particular, I also have a daughter the same age, and another one close behind. I know what this stage encompasses, the high highs and low lows, the big feelings, the changes, the beginning of pulling away from me. I know how much it would mean to have my middle school daughters want to do something like this with me, and I saw the pride and love in this mama’s eyes. I wanted everyone who looked at the photos to feel it too.

I always strive to honor the love between the people I capture, and my goal is to make it more than a transaction: it’s a gift from my heart and my best. Like shopping for someone and choosing a gift for them that I would like to receive myself, I capture what I would want captured. It’s that simple and that personal.

With every session, I find a way to relate to it and force myself to be in it emotionally. Shooting like this taxes me. It pulls my entire soul to the surface for everyone to see. I’m giving myself in a very deep and vulnerable way.

It’s a performance: I make a little bit of a fool of myself to put people at ease. The goofier I am, the more they forget I’m there. And yet, it’s not a performance: I also tear up or cry behind the lens for most of my shoots, but I usually manage to hide it or make a joke about it.

I don’t know how I access this depth other than being willing to jump off the cliff into it, in front of people. I don’t know how to teach it, but I know it when I summon it.

It shows all over my cheeks.