Monthly Archive: June, 2011

in her hand

while sorting and packing i found this note in my mom’s handwriting. i love how she appears this way when i need her most. when she would take a bubble bath, she’d balance… Continue reading

my life scoop

do you ever find yourself wondering how an image is created? what’s the set up? what are the settings? you can get a peek behind the scenes of my photography over at My… Continue reading


The Place I Want To Get Back To is where in the pinewoods in the moments between the darkness and first light two deer came walking down the hill and when they saw… Continue reading


you can’t deny the rip tide. the pull, the siren song that draws you in mom in maine 1960’s :: photo by my dad “patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. patience… Continue reading


“Summer Solstice is one of the great turning points of the year, when the sun is at its peak and the days abound with the promise of life’s fullness. It is a serenely… Continue reading

his self, my self, your self

1955 my father’s self portrait today i am teaching a class on self portraits and truth. this art form i stumbled into years ago for reasons only my heart can share. this art… Continue reading

going coastal

photo by my dad :: 1960’s maine coast jumping girls :: my mom and a friend  i’m heading out to oregon tomorrow and i’m very excited! spending time teaching on the oregon coast… Continue reading

come home

film :: wind rock wyoming :: 1999 the sun goes behind a cloud i realize that i don’t even know where i am. there’s that burning feeling in my eyes and nose. just… Continue reading

goddess trumps bull

my voice of reason shouted at me today, or rather typed in all caps to remind me of this truth: “goddess trumps bull.” she’s good for that, my voice of reason. because when… Continue reading

morning ritual

austin :: barton springs sunshine swim mermaid waters swallowed by nature heart mind body love {iphone love :: thursday morning ritual}

  • taproot magazine

  • @camerashymomma on instagram

    a year ago today we landed in paradise and i sat unblinking on the balcony, staring out at the caribbean blue, and felt life splinter because the phone call i anticipated receiving for eight years had arrived just moments after we landed. your hospice nurse let me know you were ready to leave your earthly body. it felt like a trapeze act, a circus trick, a balancing act of human experience while we found our way together, two adults and three children: sharing a happy family vacation, our private beach wedding ceremony, and celebrating your life as you transitioned to death. life is always equal parts joy and sorrow, but never so much as that week one year ago. i still find you in the ocean waves, mom, and i know i always will. thanks for showing up in unexpected places. this, and a pocket full of seaglass; this is everything. 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.
  • Meredith Winn

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