tintype studio

with the shift of season, we have shifted locations too. at the beginning of fall, steve and i opened up our tintype studio in Portland Maine! we are so excited at the possibilities… Continue reading

home is where the heart is

nestled in the thick of woods on 20 acres of solitude, our home is a yurt village. a patchwork of structures and lives, just like our blended family who calls this home. our… Continue reading

tran·si·tion

transitions are stumbling blocks disguised as bountiful color, a woods full of vibrancy and beacons of light. transitions are difficult as we shift and creak and grow and change from one state (of… Continue reading

the 4th of october {89 years later)

for as long as i can remember, this image has been etched into my mind. just recently i went digging around in my stash of family collectibles in order to find it. this,… Continue reading

see in a new way

together with Lensbaby, in celebration of the release of the new LM-10 mobile sweet spot lens, i’d like to introduce you to the Traveling Lens Project. i’m thrilled to be participating in this journey that… Continue reading

early days of fall

these are the early days of fall in new england. they came suddenly, as if overnight. after the second frost of the season, everything caught fire. everywhere i go now, my eyes follow… Continue reading

common ground fair

this time of year marks a beginning. not just the beginning of autumn and change of season, but it marks the anniversary of our move to new england. september, for me, will always… Continue reading

back to school

it’s september which means back to school. back to routine and life and habits and chores and some of the tedium that comes with the school year. summer was a time for exploration,… Continue reading

summer, in review

as always, summer speeds by too fast. quicker than i can gather up images, moments, days and weeks. it was full of wonder and relaxation. family, friends, work and play. looking through these… Continue reading

perspective shift

“i like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells.” -dr. seuss it’s been a watery summer. it turns me around, the speed at which life goes… and funny how there are pockets of… Continue reading

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  • @camerashymomma on instagram

    sunshine sunday. as a mother you try to protect them for as long as you can. but media trickles in with the flash of news across a restaurant tv screen and suddenly you're in the middle of conversations about the NRA and government officials and gun laws and honestly honesty honesty. my parents never spoke like this; did they have to? or were they complacent and yes, happily republican, in a time when life felt so very different than how it feels now? or am i just a middle aged mom, a liberal raised by conservatives, an empath woman raising an empath son and fumbling through this razor sharp world? i often don't know what i’m doing. am i being honest? am i being too honest? i’m doing all i can to channel my frustration/sadness/anger towards legislative action and common sense gun laws. i’m just saying, it's a heavy heart when your 7th grader simply doesn't want to go to school because of recent school shootings and he’s able to express his sadness and rage at the office of the president while questioning the state of the union and the illusion of safety in this world he is navigating. @everytown #endgunviolence hello love. happy valentine's day! {homemade love for my love on his birthday} he's the most encouraging, positive, and creatively supportive husband around, so i wanted to make him something special for his 45th year. i drew this and carved it, then held my breath as i inked it and pulled the first print from it. i could.not.wait to give it to him this morning! life intersects and intertwines. weeks become months become years, until you look around one day and wonder if there was ever a time when you did not wake to see their face each morning. happy birthday to my favorite man @artfarmer “we are all a little weird and life’s a little weird and when we find someone who’s weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." thirteen. my boy. the master of expression. the kid who has always marched to his own rhythm. keep being you, baby, i'm so proud to be your mom. thirteen years ago found me kneeling at the banks of the river to channel her energy, to sink my knees into her wet earth after months of flooding rains. to ground myself, to tap into something greater than me, to channel the warrior women who came before me in lineage. to find strength from something, anything, bigger than me, to help guide me through homebirth. today i fall down the rabbit hole of old photos, old lives… and become that mom. the mom that hugs him while saying “20 hours of back labor.” he knows the story of his beginning: the coyotes, the birth tub, the out of body experience and the power of love radiating from the ten pound baby in my arms. today i am that mom that holds the memories, in the hours leading us to 3am. remembering the mud caked to the hem of my skirt and the blood on my thighs. the birth. the babe. the mother. thirteen years in the blink of an eye. after the storm, after dreaming and sleeping on wide beaches, waking to life dictated by tides, salted skin and damp hair, after emerging from the cave of darkness where migraines are fed on the self doubts of bad mothering, after hours lost to the inner monologue of bitterness… only after all that, is there light… and my ability to see it, even if briefly, in the headlights of a snowsquall. he’ll officially be thirteen years old in five days. last week he lost a baby tooth; the end of an era that involves sneaking into bedrooms after dark to retrieve teeth from under pillows without waking the child. the tooth fairy has been so tired at night that his tooth has been forgotten there under his pillow for a few days. it had completely slipped my mind, his too. but just last night he came in to say goodnight and reminded me, “mom, my tooth is still under my pillow. can you remind the tooth fairy?” and he smiled and i smiled and he hugged me and i hugged him and i thought of all the ways we mother these kids into grown up human beings… and what an incredible journey it is, for both of us. the witnessing (and the allowing to be witnessed). maybe one day his future self will find his box of teeth in my desk, just as i did while in my mother's house and he will be one part disgusted and one part tearful at discovering all the things our parents do for love (and magic and mystery and hope) and i keep thinking maybe this is what my mother meant, when she said one day i'd have a kid just like me.
  • Meredith Winn