My Heart to Yours
I have been photographing naturally occurring hearts for almost 25 years. I no longer know if I find them, or they find me from a much higher place, but as I have grown and evolved so has my relationship with them. I have a passion for finding beauty in unexpected places, magic in the mundane, and I believe love and spirit are with us even in our darkest moments. Open your heart and lets connect...
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Magic In The Mess
No Such Thing As An Accident, 2019
After a tough week visiting my father in the hospital, I took my kids out for a walk through Central Park on a mission to lift my spirits. We decided to stop and sail boats in the pond. When my son placed the hot chocolate we had waited on a very long line for on the ground to hold the boat controller, I “accidentally” kicked it over. But instead of disaster and disappointment ensuing, we discovered a beautiful message in the mess. Watching someone you love in pain takes a toll on your heart and so does the energy of a hospital. The blooming flowers in the park, my babies, and this happy little mishap facilitated my emotional recovery by reconnecting me with the simple joys that existed right in front of me. I could not control everything, but I could choose what to focus on in that moment to create happiness. I was reminded you can always find love, even during difficult times, and THAT was certainly no accident.
Confirmation, New York, NY, 2008.
After taking multiple at home tests, I was finally at the doctor’s office. My first pregnancy had been officially confirmed, and our lives would be forever changed. When I got up from my exam and saw this, I knew my angels were along for the ride, and I was already experiencing a love like I had never known.
Luna’s Heart Shaped Drool, 2009
I brought Luna, my first born, home from the hospital on my birthday, and she and all of the growth and lessons for both of us that would come along with her, were the greatest birthday gifts I have ever received. And while it has certainly not always been picture perfect, the love is always there.
The Truth About Motherhood
It’s The Little Things, 2018
It was late and I was exhausted. So when my daughter ran out of her room begging me to sew her favorite pants (that were really at their life’s end) what I really wanted to do was throw them away. “It’s not worth it,” I tried to tell her. I am aware this sounds like a small issue in the grand scheme of life, but the various demands of parenting are never ending and those small needs sure can add up. In this particular moment I was drained, but this was a thing of importance in her world so I dug down a bit deeper into that well of energy that we manage to find as parents even when we think there is nothing left. When this heart appeared out of the thread I had tossed aside after I had finished sewing, I was reminded my efforts WERE in fact “worth it.” The next morning my daughter ran to me with a huge hug and thank you, and just like that my well was full again.
My Melted Heart, 2019
It was my son who found this heart and stopped me and said “mommy can I take a picture??” Yes it feels good to know that my children are seeing the world in a creative and positive way, even on a grimy NYC sidewalk. But it’s more than that. Let’s be real, we parents are usually embarrassments to our kids, so imagine the eye rolls I often receive when they have to put up with my obsessive photography. My kids endure the people on the street who stare and think I am crazy for laying on the ground photographing garbage or dog pee or whatever it may be. I always hoped the long term lesson for them would be to hold on to your unique vision, don’t be afraid to be different, and believe in yourself even if no one sees what you see. Like most parenting efforts, you feel like you lecture endlessly and wonder if anything is actually sinking in, but then every so often there is evidence you are getting through. My son being inspired to drop to the ground and photograph what most would see as an annoying dirty chunk of snow on the busy street filled with his peers watching as they pass by on their way to school, was one of those times.
Luna’s Track Meet, New York, NY, 2018.
Parenting is hard. It is the greatest love you will ever know but it also comes with great sacrifice. When I had my babies I made the choice to stay home with them full-time, making everything in their lives my top priority. Now that they are older I have embarked upon a new career path, working during their school hours. It can seem almost impossible to balance keeping up with their insanely busy schedules and still be able to show up for everything while attempting to achieve personal and professional goals. Traveling to this track meet in the middle of what should have been school/work time felt particularly challenging on this day, but when I arrived and spotted this heart it helped me hit the reset button and gently confirmed that there is nothing more important then being present for our kids. And when I saw my daughters face look up at me gleaming with pride as she finished her race, I knew there was no place on earth I would rather be.
Transformation, 2021
Anyone who knows me knows I would do a twist my ankle type of jump, spin, or skip to avoid harming one of nature’s creations. So as I was walking down the beach, hand in hand with my then tween daughter, and my eyes fell on a perfectly shaped shell directly in my path, my mind screamed “no!” but something else took over my body. I could not stop myself from stepping directly on it. Feeling it crush under my foot, I looked down and to my surprise saw this heart. Something new and beautiful had taken shape. My daughter and I had been in the thick of a deep conversation about her growing up. She was bringing up all the new things she wanted to be allowed to do in 7th grade, and I was letting her know I would work with her where I could. Trying my best to show her I recognized and respected the new phase of life she had entered. Boundaries, rules, and expectations were all rapidly changing before my eyes. Unstoppable and out of my control like my fast moving foot; a similar unavoidable crash, and like the shell, the image of childhood smashed and left behind in many tiny pieces. Her first year in middle school had been tough. The changes I didn’t see coming seemed to happen overnight, and I don’t know who struggled more with them, her or myself. When I look at this image now, it reminds me that her transformation into the the teenage realm is not something to be feared. I can’t fight it, so I work on meeting her where she is. The little girl is no longer, but there is a new, unique beauty to the young woman that is emerging. My daughter, my heart.
Gifts From The Sea
Just Be Here, 2019
You are not your mind. A difficult concept to grasp but very liberating once it clicks. I stumbled upon this heart (and I mean I was literally stumbling from illness) on a beautiful beach during what was supposed to be a happy fun vacation. But due to a nasty illness that came for a visit along with my family, I was feeling miserable and stressed out. My anxious, ocd, germaphobe tendencies were being triggered more and more as each new sick person went down. Although I logically knew and could recognize how blessed I was to have my family with me and be able to even take a vacation while there is so much suffering and struggle in the world, I could not stop internally spiraling to a negative space due to my own anxiety issues. Just telling myself to stop wouldn’t work, and this was even more frustrating. It takes dedication and practice to gain control over our thoughts which then become our feelings, and therefore create our reality. Finding this tiny gem in the sand helped bring me back to the moment in front of me. I was surrounded by the beauty of nature and the love of family I don’t get to see all the time, and I didn’t want to miss out on enjoying it. When we separate from our thoughts and our crazy spinning minds, and just focus on what is right in front of us, our feelings change and we can find peace. Now when my brain tries to take me on a wild ride, I refuse to get on. I actually visualize my mind outside of myself doing its thing, acknowledging its patterns while I remain present and still. I may not always succeed, but practice makes perfect, and I will continue to find inspiration in the signs of encouragement that show up along the way.
In The Shadows, There Is Light (3)
Embrace your shadow. Easier said than done. While being fortunate enough to spend a month away, I had several different groups of family and friends come for visits. It is interesting how sharing your home for long periods of time with other people offers the opportunity to view behaviors that are the norm for you from different perspectives. Anxiety is a sneaky creature after all, and and we are often unaware as it slyly controls our lives. A few bumps in the road offered me a great opportunity to look at how my own anxieties are shaping my life, and examine areas I could improve upon for both myself and those around me. Yes these moments are uncomfortable at first, but once the initial defense mode passes, I actually have tremendous gratitude for the chance to check myself and grow. While I can acknowledge my shadow side and recognize my faults, my bigger problem is forgiving myself and letting go. Feelings of guilt and shame linger over possibly disappointing people I care about deeply with less than perfect behavior. The timing of this shadow heart’s appearance was no coincidence, it was a clear message to have love and compassion for all parts of myself. Embracing my shadow is the only path to real healing and freedom, and this will be my reminder. Let your shadow be your guide.
Self Love
Perfect Imperfections (1) (Whats Underneath), 2006.
This heart shaped smudge appeared during my modeling days when I would regularly have my face painted with makeup for work. Although people would be closely LOOKING at me, I wondered if anyone was actually SEEING me. At times I was uncomfortable playing that role, and often wondered if I was betraying my authentic self. I was much more interested in what existed beneath the layer of makeup, and all the ways we may be covering up who we really are. Now as a woman trying to age naturally in a society that expects me to live up to impossible standards of perfection, I value this image even more. When the make up is removed, self LOVE must remain.
Perfect Imperfections (2)
Yes, those are my spider veins on full display next to a gentle reminder to love myself as I am. I could have chosen another version of this image where my legs looked long and smooth and did not showcase these “imperfections” while writing of the original meaning behind this heart’s surprise appearance. It was actually a pretty great moment where I was questioning my future while shaving in the shower (don’t we all??) only to look down and see this heart. A confirmation to move forward without fear and self-doubt. Instead, when I began editing these images, and therefore my own body, I suddenly saw this shaving cream formation as an opportunity to shift out of my first instinct of critical self judgement, and view myself through the softer lens of love and acceptance. As a former model/actor and now portrait photographer I am NO stranger to photoshop, in fact it comes with the territory. With a simple click these marks could be gone. While I too, at times, participate in the delusional retouched insta-perfect world we live in, I am more inspired by content that shares raw truth, builds confidence, and attempts to redefine traditional beauty standards. I’m not saying this is always easy, but with this image I am going to shift my perspective and honor the veins in my 40 year old legs that grew while I grew two humans inside me. Instead of fighting these signs of aging, I am determined to find gratitude in the fact I have lived long enough to see them.
The Fine Line (Beauty and Pain), 2018
Selfcare Is Not Selfish, 2020
It was all happening. The city was shut down. Our businesses were shut down. Ours schools were shut down. We were relocating. People were dying. It was all too much and the weight was heavy, so I went into the water to float. I put a large chunk of pink Himalayan sea salt in the bath to help soothe my tired body and mind, and as I rose from the water all that remained of the crystal was this tiny heart stuck to my chest. We would be alright. I could do this. But I would have to remember to be forgiving. With the world, society, even my family, but especially with MYSELF. When it felt like there was nothing left I would need to find kindness and compassion in the hard moments, and there sure were plenty to come. But we would be alright, and there was always love.
Love Grows
When A Tree Shows You It’s Heart
Spirit Speaks
Home is Where the Heart Is, Bridgehampton, NY, 2006.
I was once told by a wise woman that my grandmother and I lived a past life together weaving creations out of beautiful sparking silver, which may sound crazy to most but actually made perfect sense to me. So as I was photographing this spider, the moment she reached up and created this heart that lasted for just a split second in time, I knew it was a heavenly hello. The moment, like life, was fleeting, but the love remains.
Love Connection, Mexico, 2008.
I had arrived in Mexico straight from my dear home town friend’s funeral. She had died in a shocking car crash. I was newly pregnant with my first baby and instead of enjoying this tropical vacation, all I felt was sick, hot, and incredibly heartbroken. I went for a walk with my father, I needed some love. How did they know?
Getting Ready for the Funeral, Connecticut, 2016.
I still remember the night, right before our high school graduation. My best friends and I sat in our parked car and made a promise that no matter where our paths took us as we each went our separate ways into the big wide world, we would always come back together for life’s important moments. In the many years since, there had been weddings, divorces, births, and even death. But the day this photo was shot one of us was preparing to bury a parent for the first time. A painful milestone in the great cycle of life, and a full circle moment in our friendship from the innocent days when we made that promise as teenagers. As I mixed my makeup on my hand while anxiously getting ready for the service, I noticed this heart smudge and knew it was the power of our love, friendship, and support for one another materialized. I also believe it was a very special person smiling down on us, happy to know we had come together for his daughter, and our bond was still strong after all those years.
Light Shines Through (1), 2019.
“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets through.” -Leonard Cohen.
I was reminded of this quote during a beautiful conversation with a special person, shortly after photographing this tear in a bag I thought had reached the end of it’s life as I knew it. We were discussing the well being of a dear friend who was desperately trying to recover after severely damaging their mental and physical health due to drug use. When I discovered the tear in the bag I was initially upset it had been destroyed, could no longer function, and seemed beyond repair. But no. I was reminded that like us humans, the torn and broken places we think may end us, can instead be the openings where unconditional love and light can still shine through. And although things may never be quite the same, it is beautiful nonetheless.
We Voted, 2020.
As I cleared the table to fill out my absentee voter ballot with my children, I discovered this heart stain waiting for us underneath the mess. (A visual metaphor for 2020?) I chose to take it as a positive sign that love would be on our side. But no matter what actually was going to happen in November, I vowed to strive to be the example of loving, honest, compassionate, respectful behavior that was lacking in the administration at that time. I will teach my children their voices count, and to take action to make change. I will continue to reiterate that they must rise above the hateful behavior and language they have witnessed, even when it hurts and incites anger. Most of all they must know that regardless of political beliefs, basic human decency should always come first. And so WE VOTED.
Election Anxiety, November 2020
I was thick in the grips of election anxiety one early November night when I looked down and saw this. I knew what I’ld been hoping, praying, wishing, and speaking out for, but I did not know what would happen in the coming hours and days. The future was uncertain, but what became very clear in this moment was that whatever the outcome, all sides would need to dig deep, and listen with respect. It’s the only way forward. I’m praying for love, tolerance, unity and understanding. I’ve protested for it, I voted for it. But as my city once again had boarded up their storefronts in fear of civil unrest, I also made an urgent plea for peace. Within my own heart, the streets, our country and beyond. We desperately need peace. can make all the difference.
The Morning After (Celestial Wedding), Crete, 2006
My husband and I were introduced by the moon. Through the power of a dream followed by our destined encounter, we have always credited the thin, smiling sliver of a moon and all its magic for connecting us the fateful night we met. This image was created a couple of years later, and a month before our official wedding, where we would be married in front of a large group of family and friends. Yearning for a private, more spiritual moment, we had planned a trip to Greece where we intended to somehow commit to each other in or own unique ceremony. On our first night on the island of Crete, my husband woke me up in the middle of the night saying, our moon is out. We went out to the balcony, and sure enough there was our moon, smiling down at us. It was time. We ran down to the beach and sat alone by the moonlit sea. We exchanged vows and rocks from the Mediterranean. There was one bright star off in the distance we were certain was were our future babies were waiting for us. When the moon was done officiating, and the sun began to rise we looked at each other and said, “I think we just got married.” The sunlight revealed a row of snails in a perfect line off to our side, the only witnesses to what we now call our “Celestial Wedding.” This photo was taken in the morning light of our hotel room few hours later.
Rainbow Portal To My Soul, 2020.
One night something possessed me to read an old dream journal from when I was 24 years old. I was acting then. Although I had graduated college with a degree in photography and it was my first love, I had put it on hold to focus on pursuing this other form of storytelling. I landed on a page in the journal that described what I now can see was no mere dream, but in fact a soul retrieval, where I was being reminded of, and called to reclaim, my soul purpose. Part of the “dream” went on to describe how I was passionately photographing a rainbow who’s colors were incredibly vivid. The rainbow came alive and began “making shapes just for me.” It was a moving experience I could not shake when I woke. I went on to write, “Can I love something this much and be doing something else? I think this rainbow is telling me THIS (photography) is my true calling.” Two days after reading that, I began the not so fun task of taking down our Christmas tree. To my surprise, in the dirty water bowl that remained I found these beautiful swirling colors. I think it’s odd, but of course I grab my camera and tell my husband hold on, sorry, I have to photograph this. I become completely mesmerized and lose myself up close in all those rainbow colored swirls. After a while I step back and see the heart that had formed. The rainbow had made a “shape just for me“ (in a language I would clearly understand) and it felt so good to receive such confirmation. A heart shaped rainbow portal to my soul had opened, and I felt completely aligned. I am thankful for the many different roads taken on this journey that is my life, but it feels so good to have come full circle and landed here, fully committed and devoting my life to my first love, sharing tiny pieces of my spirit with each photograph I make. Your soul will always find ways to let you know when you have strayed, and will call you back to your true purpose. The question is, are we listening?
In The Shadows, There is Light (2) (The Foreshadowing Panic Attack of 2020)
Yes, there is a great shadow looming over all of us. But within this dark time, there are many tiny moments of light. As I continue to ride the emotional roller coaster of pandemic uncertainty like we all are, I am doing my best to focus on the unexpected gifts this time is offering. I photographed this heart scene (a physical foreshadowing) right before my home, New York City, went into a state of emergency. I had just stepped off a plane for what was supposed to be a personally and professionally exciting weekend. Instead what I remember most about this trip is the strange psychic panic attack that took me completely by surprise. An overwhelming feeling something very bad was about to happen. Fast forward, and here we are. At the time, as I tried to figure out logically what could have made me have this unusual episode, my friends and I started talking about the anxiety in our lives. I had a lot on the schedule coming up in the month ahead. My friend said, “Wow, that’s a lot. When do you think things will slow down?” With a quivering voice I answered “never,” and began to cry. This haunts me now, but I can recognize my soul was actually on overload. Underneath all of the fear and frustration the shut down of 2020 brought, it also offered an unexpected opportunity to go inward and find the ways we needed to pause, rest, and reconnect with ourselves and our loved ones before this happened. A time to discover, create, and choose to dwell in the places where the light shines through. Remembering, if we do not know darkness we can not appreciate the light.
Take Pause (Reflections), New York, NY, 2018.
I almost kept walking past this tiny heart puddle. How could I possibly have time to stop when I was caught up in the hustle bustle of the New York City streets, a busy schedule, and my even busier mind. But something told me to stop, so I turned around and took a closer look. As I started photographing the heart, I discovered in the larger puddle the reflection of a tree and blue sky above me, and tuned into nature and beauty I didn’t even realize existed amidst a cold, grey, concrete world. Taking a pause brought me out of my head and into the present moment. The physical reflection on the ground gave rise to a moment of spiritual reflection within, as it connected me to my creativity and therefore my soul. I would carry that with me as I stood up to once again join the busy streets, this time continuing on the path with a slightly different step.
From Streets With Love
Love is on Our Side (Luna’s Sign and Hot Cocoa from the Women’s March), New York, NY, 2017.
Teaching our children the importance of equality and human rights is of the utmost importance, and seems like it should be simple or obvious when it is something you believe in so strongly. But explaining the harsh truths of our history, and what still goes on today, to an innocent child you have only done everything in your power to shield from negativity up to this point, is complicated and challenging. I shared this moment with my 76 yr old mother-in-law and my seven-year-old daughter. As we marched together that day, three generations of women, I felt privileged to be in the company of so many who had paved the way before us. My daughter watched as her grandmother chanted boldly, not afraid to use her voice and be heard, proudly holding the sign Luna had made but was now too shy to carry. Luna was quiet, and I assumed overwhelmed, taking in the big energy of the crowd. When we took a break for this cup of hot cocoa, I thought it might have been too much for her and we should be done. But it was my daughter who told me we HAD to go back out and make it to the end, that we COULD NOT STOP. The student had become the teacher.
Walk Me Through It NYC
From being deserted to overflowing with passion, the streets of NYC went through so much in 2020. The sound of eerie, empty, silence changed dramatically overnight as voices of the unheard erupted in pain and protest, along with swarming helicopters and sirens. The fight against two deadly viruses was raging, one that attacked the body and one that attacked the mind. There has been a lot of collective fear, anger, and suffering. But while we simultaneously fought for justice and began to reopen our city, the streets held steady as our foundation, our gathering place for expression, action, and connection. The city pavement continues to support our marching feet, leading the way toward change and new beginnings with love. The following images vary from marches supporting the Black Lives Matter movement, re-opening our family restaurants after being forced to close due to the pandemic, and boarding our storefronts up (like so many other business owners) to protect from looting that took place across the city.
I had just dropped my son off for his elementary school graduation, and was hastily walking home to hop on zoom and watch when I spotted these. It’s our second pandemic virtual graduation, and although it was disappointing parents still had to watch from home, Sergio Stone at least got to have an in-person ceremony unlike his sister who had to say goodbye to her friends and school through a computer screen last year. That’s progress, and for that, and the bravery and resilience children across the world have demonstrated all year, we celebrated. I continue to congratulate all the 2020 and 2021 graduates, teachers, and parents-we did it! Even a global pandemic couldn’t stop us.
Love In The Time Of Corona
When our home, New York City, suddenly became the epicenter at the start of the pandemic, we basically packed our bags and overnight and made what I call “The Great Escape” to a rental home upstate. I found this paint chip on the worn out deck in the back of the house where we hid away from danger for a time. In many ways life as we knew if had been shattered, but I was reminded that in the broken pieces, we could still find beauty.
Although leaving our city lives in such fearful rush was a dramatic turn of events, and unsettling to say the least, it came with the unexpected gift of spending time with my children in nature. I unexpectedly found myself living the life of a country girl, and I learned a valuable lesson on our daily walks through the woods. The earth speaks in streams. Of course they always have, but now without the loud sounds of cars and construction, I could finally hear them. Like so many other things that had happened recently, I didn’t see it coming, but the opportunity it provided me to converse intimately with our planet ended up being life changing. The world was on pause, and in the stillness I could actually feel the earth vibrating and pulsating. A living, breathing entity with watery veins flowing throughout. The streams meet up for playful bubbly banter, but continue on their path of solitude just as happily. THEY FLOW. Around and over obstacles and sharp turns. Fast or slow, THEY FLOW. Naturally carving out a path that’s all their own. I am thankful for the healing energy Mama Earth provides, and I hope THE FLOW passes through me and reaches you wherever you may be as you endure this trying time that still continues. You are supported by the power of this beautiful planet, I promise. I will carries the lessons of the streams with me as I returned to the city that I loved and missed so dearly. The sounds of the aqueous voices that soothed me during that painful time, forever echoing in my heart.
This image just about summed up pandemic life. Constant messes (big and small) in the foreground, with a layer of perpetual fear looming over us in the background. But there is something else that is also right in front of us during this crazy time. Love. Nothing is ever only one thing. It’s all connected, and happening all at once. This time will pass, and you are not alone.
December 3, 2020
After the hard reality that homeschool wasn’t going to be just a passing phase had sunk in, it was time to get a real desk for our youngest, and pictured here is my husband teaching my son how to build it. It was a sweet moment in the midst of the chaos that existed in our living room and far beyond. As we scrambled to rearrange our lives and schedules, these images remind me how important it is to remain the steady force our children need as these uncertain times continue, and that there are opportunities for love and learning that can come out of any situation. You rearrange, you adjust, all the while keeping your eye on the only one true constant, love. It’s the steady force when you can’t be. The foundation for all we build. It”s what will bring you back.
I had gone almost a full year with out seeing my parents when February rolled around. We rented a hotel room once in the summer so we could do a safe outdoor visit, but I had not stayed in their home or had what qualified as true quality in person time together since Covid hit. I never could have imagined a circumstance where staying apart was how you would show your love and respect, yet here we were. So on the year marker of our last true visit, we had to do something. There could be no more lost time. Not when you never know how much time you really have. Since it was still not safe to stay indoors with them, we rented a house a few towns over. I packed heaters and an air filter and we sat distanced on the screened porch. We took walks, played in the snow, and braved the cold. It was bizarre, inconvenient, and surreal but we compromised, reimagined, remained flexible, and found we could carve out a new way of being as we all have done in so many different ways throughout the pandemic. When they first walked up to the door of the house I couldn’t help but notice the hearts on the masks. There was love right there, covering their faces but shining in their eyes. A heartshaped protective shield. I’m happy to say they have since been vaccinated, and now when we go home we can really GO HOME.
My raindrop sign of good luck and good faith on my way to get vaccinated. Like many other pandemic experiences, I documented getting (both) my Covid vaccinations. While it’s common for me to not have time to edit photos for a while, it took me almost a year to finally edit and share these. I have to ask myself, was I really too busy, or did I subconsciously need a moment to process the different thoughts and emotions surrounding the experience? Or maybe after a year and a half of stressing over and arguing about Covid protocols and politics, (sometimes with people you love dearly), I just didn’t have it in me to have to go at it with someone on social who would dare call me a sheep. I think the real reason I felt hesitant is because I don’t believe I can do justice to the mix of emotions and thoughts I had before, during, and after these photos were taken in a writing. How could I put into words all the different moments of anxiety, fear, hope, and relief that surrounded the decision. So I’ll just say this, at the end of the day, I did what I believed would be my small part in pushing the healing process forward in the world. Not just for myself and my family, but to protect all lives in our community, with hopes of bringing a healthy, functioning, safe society back to life. It’s my truth, it was history in the making, and so it was recorded.
March 23, 2021
The year anniversary of the pandemic had arrived and I was in some kind of a slump. I’ll say I was blocked, but I actually felt more like I was spinning with no where to land to get the proper footing to move forward. I couldn’t find the words. Everything looked bad. My husband thinks I was in shock over losing an entire year. I forced myself physically, mentally, and spiritually to just push through, with shooting and editing this particular series of photos but also the next phase of ongoing pandemic life in general. After I finally finished editing, writing, and sharing after a few weeks of keeping to myself and feeling like I couldn’t pull anything together, I went in the shower and saw this little reminder I was loved and supported, in that moment and all year long. What I had been working on is the writing and series of photographs included below:
I can’t believe it’s been a full year since we heard the crippling news that our schools would be shut down, and our children would have to continue learning from home. Its hard to find the energy to write the feelings and do them proper justice. I also stopped having the energy to document at certain points if I’m being honest. When I compare this series of photos that cover the start of the new 2020 school year, and my first series of homeschool pictures from last March, I can see and feel the difference. I barely had enough energy to live it some days never mind photograph it. My approach to documenting seemed to mirror my attitude towards the pandemic in general after time wore on. I ran the gamut from numb and going through the motions, to not wanting to give it the time of day out of spiteful annoyance, or not acknowledging it’s existence out of frustration and disbelief this was STILL HAPPENING. Documenting would make it real and I didn’t want to make that true anymore. But the year anniversary, needs to be acknowledged. To every parent, student, and teacher, I feel you. Congratulate and forgive yourself for all the stellar successes and epic failures you’ve managed to pull off during this ongoing, unthinkable, often chaotic and absurd hybrid/homeschooling experiment. It will never be perfect, how could it? We are all doing our best, and that is enough, whatever the hell that may look like.
July 11, 2021
At first glance I assumed this was a rock, but soon realized it was a family of sea mollusks gathered together in a love formation. When I started editing the photos from this day’s family outing, my first thought was, what a perfect visual metaphor for our family during this pandemic. Holding each other close as we weather the ever changing, uncertain, and often tumultuous tides of the time. Huddled up safe, secure as long as we were together. But as I began to write about it, using the word “tight” to describe the hold they had on each other, and I was quickly flashed back to a moment that shifted my perspective. One of the first things I had done after being vaccinated was pay a visit to a very special healer, who scanned my body and worked especially hard on my jaw (which was what I now imagine clenched as tightly as the shell of one of these sea creatures). When discussing her findings in me, she told me she could feel all that I had been holding over the past year, for my family and the world. Holding TIGHT. I needed to loosen my grip, but how? When your role as mother and wife is to protect your family, and now that means from a deadly disease, you find yourself holding on for LITERAL dear life. I acknowledge the grip can be too strong, and overwhelming for all involved, myself included. On top of everything and everyone all the time, all the no’s and nagging, trying to hold it all together. All the while feeling like the bad guy, when you are just trying so hard to do the right thing to keep everyone safe. Yet here we are, my precious family unit who, for better or worse, I give my ALL. As another pandemic season passes, we’re still holding on, while now figuring out when and where it is safe to let go. Forever bonded together.
Made With Love
My grandmother’s original recipe in her very own handwriting. I can clearly remember the feeling of pure delight I felt hiding under the stairs in my basement as a child, so excited to indulge in the treasure that was one of her famous Whoopie Pies. As I got older she taught me how to make them, and I have kept the tradition (and therefore a part of her) alive every year since she died. They are a piece of home. The taste of a collective childhood; my mother’s, brother’s, cousin’s, uncle’s, aunt’s, and now my own son and daughter. N Thanksgiving 2020 was the first time I would not see my family since I left their home at 18 (excluding one when I was too close to giving birth to travel). But it was a time when showing love looked very different. Although it hurt, that year by staying apart, we were letting our loved ones know how much we value their lives and that we would do anything to keep them safe. I could feel my grandmother by my side as I baked, packed, and sent her Whoopie’s through the mail to surprise my parents this year, and I know they did too. Love travels. Across state borders and otherworldly realms. Through time, space, photographs, and food.
It was the morning of my father’s birthday, and I was so happy to be waking up in the house with him. We surprised him with decorations and made his favorite blueberry pancakes for breakfast. I felt so grateful just to be there, and being able to perform such a simple gesture was filled with extra love and meaning (three hearts worth). My parents were now vaccinated and we were finally able to visit and stay with them for the first time in over a year. Needless to say there was a lot to celebrate.
Well, it was a COVID Christmas after all. We were in the middle of our tree decorating festivities when I heard my son yell, “look mom, a heart!” Of course, I thought, it’s the perfect moment: all together around the tree, listening to Holiday music, reflecting on special moments and loved ones with every ornament we hung. And yes, we ordered in Mexican for our big tree lighting ceremony, what can I say, it had been a busy week! But what I did not know the moment this photo was taken, was that the busy routine was about to come to a screeching halt. About ten minutes later, I would receive the news that our school would go remote until Jan. 10th due to the rapid rise in Covid cases. About an hour later my husband would start coughing and go to bed unusually early. I would sleep on the couch just in case. But within two days I would become sick with COVID. The whole family would, although thankfully everyone else would experience much milder symptoms than myself. My family thought I was crazy, but I kept this chip on my counter throughout our quarantine. It helped me not lose sight during the disappointment and fevered delirium. It’s helping me now circle back to that initial moment of joy. It reminded me to find gratitude in my Christmas quarantine, and to send so much love out to the people who, because of this virus, are stuck in the hospital, have lost loved ones, or don’t have family support or a safe home to quarantine in. I’m counting my blessings and am incredibly thankful for my health and the support system I have far and wide. So during the 2021 Omicron surge, with this weird tortilla chip image full of the ups and downs that is love and life, I wished you all a healthy and happy holidays, from my heart to yours.
Feed Your Soul
Funky Granny’s, East Hampton, July, 2019
Once upon a time in a pre-pandemic world when people weren’t afraid to talk to each other and warm smiles weren’t hidden behind masks, Terri (better known as “Funky Granny”) and Ron allowed me to photograph them. My family and I drove past their food stand/ home every day for all of July of 2019, and one of those days we were lucky enough to catch Funky Granny herself out front. They welcomed us into their yard and we talked on the front porch. Terri gave my children a lesson on how to cook the pickles and make the jam. She has been making pickles her whole life but started the stand about 7 years ago. She claims her best customers are the sanitation truck drivers who come by every day for her hot and spicy pickled peppers. She talked of how she planted a garden for bees and butterflies, offering my city kids a window into a different way of life. Stories of family history were shared, as we learned they inherited the land from Ron’s family. The original home was a small shack that was transported in 1922 to the land we now stood upon on which two 12 and 14 year old girls would build two additional bedrooms, one that would function as a birthing room where Ron’s father and aunts were born. In the early 2000’s Terri and Ron ripped that down and built the house you see pictured here themselves. They have four children and 14 grandchildren.
I'm happy to say it appears the pandemic did not slow Terri down, her delicious jars of goodies are still standing tall proudly on display. As I reflect on our brief but memorable encounter, I feel sadness over the loss of human connection we have experienced in recent times, and I wonder when the time will come that we can freely interact, embrace, and share uninhibited moments of exchange once more.
