Shelby’s photo blog:
Gratitude, hallelujahs, & my favorite images
“It’s funny:
I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox, full of shiny tools:
the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience.
But then when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty bent old tools - friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty - and said,
Do the best you can with these, they will have to do.
And mostly, against all odds, they’re enough.”
— Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies
We took these last summer. Their family looks different now, because they got a new little sister in December — but I had so much fun splashing in the creek and eating strawberries with them that I still wanted to share the summer photos we got, all these months later.
I’m so grateful that we’re officially into spring, because there’s nothing like taking photos with families in the late spring and summer in Tennessee. Mark Twain knows what I mean —
“Saturday morning was come, and all the world was bright and fresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart; and if the heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in every face and a spring in every step. The locust trees were in bloom and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond the village and above it, was green with vegetation, and it lay just far enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting.” — Mark Twain, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
“You are my oasis — the eye of the hurricane.
One look at your face is all I need to remember by name.
So I run away home…. Yes, I run away home to you.
I was an orphan caught in a thunderstorm.
You opened the door and welcomed me into your arms.
So I run away home…. Yes, I run away home to you.
I believe in the love of the Father, and I believe in the power of grace.
I believe that he brought us together, and you are my one safe place.
You are a fortress; I am under siege.
You’re a light in the forest; I am a lost boy out in the trees.
So I run away home…. Yes, I run away home to you.”
— “My One Safe Place,” by Andrew Peterson
This song came to mind when thinking about them and the love they are so good at showing one another.
I am truly blessed to know this family. They give me hope and make me want to be a better Shelby. We took these photos last summer, and the time with them and the photos we created have been good for my soul.
I had vaguely mapped out some steps in a new direction — wanting to focus my camera on families, and wanting more from my photos. More soul. More truth. More light. I started dreaming of family portraits that may or may not seem “picture perfect” or like the classic “Kodak moments” — but photos that help families tell their stories. Their true stories. Desert seasons included — not ignored, and not waited out.
(Because really — how many of us would think, “Let’s invest in some fresh family photos,” right after a divorce or a diagnosis? But those are integral parts of the stories, too, and I think they are worth documenting. I want people to feel seen, to feel strong, to feel brave and beautiful in both the seasons of plenty and the seasons of trials.)
And then Caity emailed. Would I take some family photos, and did I have June 1st open? She bravely shared that June 1st would be two years since she had miscarried a baby. And two summers ago, she had gone to a quiet, safe place, a family friend’s farm, and dropped hydrangea petals in the river to grieve that loss. And part of her wanted to use their next round of family photos to honor this part of their story.
What an honor, what a joy, what a kind answer to my prayers, to be invited into this. It was exactly the invitation that my heart was craving, at exactly the right time for both of us. God is generous.
We took a few minutes to honor their sweet baby at the beginning of our time together — and then we walked forward. To bunnies. To strawberries and swings and sunlight. To cows. We explored and ran and laughed, and then we chased the sunset and the fireflies. It was glorious.
These photos with the Shinnicks feel like the first steps in that new direction I’m dreaming of. I’m hoping to seek beauty and tell stories with families, no matter what season they’re in — whether they’re overflowing with joy, or they’re clinging to each other for dear life. Or somewhere in between.
I believe every family is beautiful and every season is important. And if you believe that too — or if you want to believe that, but can’t right now — I would love to help you find the beauty. If you’d like family portraits, I’d love to hear from you. That “say hello” button is for you.
Grace & peace,
Shelby
