You may recognize this little family from here. It’s been a couple years since I’d had the opportunity to go down to Atlanta and photograph these lovlies, but my heart lept when I finally had the chance.
Meet Baby Anora! This cutie absolutely stole my heart. She is a content little girl full of beautiful, goofy, and happy expressions. Photographers dream right? We had a beautiful day in October for this shoot. The leaves had fully changed, it was brisk but not freezing, and the light was wonderful.
There is something truly awesome as a professional photographer when a family member calls you up and asks you to cover an event for them. Especially a wedding. Maybe it’s validation that people you love most think you do good work? I’m not sure but I always love it. It is awesome and terrifying. Terrifying in the sense that if you screw it up, you’re going to hear about it for the rest of your life. Don’t get me wrong. I have the most loving and forgiving family on the face of this earth. You just don’t want to be that person at family get togethers that people avoid talking about certain subjects with, awkward. So when my cousin Jonathan called me up and asked if I would photograph his wedding I was both thrilled and a little anxious.
There are moments that grab you and take your breath away. They can be beautiful, heartbreaking, terrifying, or transport you into the past. My husband and I bought his Grandfather’s house when we got married. We have slowly been renovating and updating it over the past five years but there are still sections of the house that remain mostly untouched. These hidden places still remind me so much of his Grandfather. The primary place is the garage. My husband and his Grandfather looked a lot alike and although I didn’t know him very well, I am assuming acted similar as well. There are times that I walk by while Speed Racer is working in the garage and see him standing, brow furrowed at some mechanical mayhem. His hands buried in the pockets of his worn and oil stained jeans, boots clacking on the floor, sleeves of his plaid shirt rolled up, occasionally taking his hands out of his pockets to run through his hair and I almost see his Grandfather, boots, worn oil stained jeans, plaid shirt, take one of his hands out of his pockets and lay it on his Grandsons shoulder. It takes my breath away.