bermuda holiday

Sunday, January 8th, 2022

At noon on December 22nd, my dad and I met at the airport. We checked our heavy, gift-laden bags and braced ourselves as we glanced up at the Departures screen. Delayed by two hours, but not cancelled. Wonderful news.

As fate would have it, we were flying to Bermuda to spend Christmas with my sister and her family during a “once-in-a-generation” winter storm. We were nervous but optimistic, even though we would later discover that every single West Jet flight was cancelled the day after ours. As our delay grew and grew, my dad paced and inspected the ground crew from the window (as dads at the airport do) and when the boarding announcement finally came, my sister admitted that she was relieved, albeit a little surprised. We were actually on our way.

Emilia is my older niece and at four and a half, she was determined to stay up to see us all arrive. Mike’s parents (my sister’s in-laws) were also on our flight and so the regular excitement was doubled. True to her word, Emilia had a nap in the early evening and was ready, waiting and watching until the car finally pulled in the driveway at 10pm. We shared hugs and a “midnight picnic” in the living room before we all crashed, including the toddler.

The funny thing about Bermuda is that no one knows where it is. Because it’s included in that classic Beach Boys song before “Bahama”, everyone seems to assume it is in the Caribbean. It is actually much closer. In fact, it’s in the middle of the ocean to the east of the US, pretty much across from South Carolina. It is so far east, in fact, that it is 1-hour ahead. This does not sound like a time change that would cause any kind of jet lag, but when you have a toddler crawling in bed beside you at 7am, that actually feels like 6am. And when you are used to slowly batting your eyelashes open without an alarm, some time around 9am, then you are in for a big surprise. Sure enough, my little bed bug Emilia found me and even though I was able to big-spoon her into silent submission for a couple of minutes, she eventually stirred and told me to put in my contacts and wake up. In fact, she fetched me the case from the bathroom so that I could do it even faster. So helpful.

The next couple of days were filled with pre-holiday activities, cookie-baking, holiday crafts and excitement for Santa… although my favourite times were just hanging out with everyone at home. One sunny afternoon, Emilia and I took our supplies (her sketchbook and crayons, and my camera) down the laneway. She sketched flowers and birds while sitting in my lap, and I shut my eyes to the soft rustling of the breeze in the palms overhead. I was obviously still sleep-deprived from the morning intrusions, so this was nice. Before we returned to the house, I set up my camera on a rock for a self-portrait of our outing together. Since the best way to capture a candid moment is to talk to one another, I turned towards her as the camera clicked on and asked her to make one Christmas wish. She looked at me thoughtfully, her small hand on my chest and replied, “I wish you could be here every day”. I wrapped her up in a big hug and somehow both of those moments made it onto my camera. And that is my favourite thing about kids- the small moments become the big moments because they are honest, open and fearless in speaking from their tiny, perfect hearts.

Christmas morning began at 6:15am which should be illegal. Through half-open eyelids, Auntie watched stockings get torn apart and uttered thanks for the tea and Veuve that was already in steady supply. Charlotte, my younger niece, is two and a half and follows in my footsteps as a true introvert. She was given a Paw Patrol tower and immediately played with that, on her own, ignoring her other gifts. Actually, in the middle of the present-opening, she politely excused herself to my sister’s bedroom to have “quiet time”. I have never felt more proud.

The day continued with the annual Christmas Day trip to the beach- a Bermuda tradition. And not just family tradition, I’m talking Bermuda-wide tradition, complete with Santa hats and a live DJ. While the adults sipped mimosas, my nieces in their holiday plaid got absolutely covered in sand and surf. These two Bermuda babies have been on the beach practically since birth and it is incredible to see them spin around in the tide, their curls damp and cheeks rosy. It is one tradition that feels so very different from a Canadian Christmas, but it has become one of my favourites.

After the anticipation for Santa came and went, we settled into those blurry days between Christmas and the new year. Before I knew it, a week in Bermuda had flown by and I hardly knew how. Something that Aunt-life has shown me is how difficult it can be for me to stay truly present around the girls. Or maybe, “present” isn’t the right word. Maybe it is something more like “grounded”. As parents well know, life around toddlers seems to move so quickly and while you are caught up in imaginative play or making sure that everyone is eating or playing with their OWN toy, time keeps moving right along. And as an introvert myself who is used to living alone, working alone and generally spending lots of time alone, this energy definitely became over-stimulating. I have realized this is one of the main reasons I love photography and more so than ever, family photography with young kids. When I am behind my camera, looking through the lens, I can take a breath and stop time for a moment. My camera is like a second set of eyes, one that observes with greater detail, greater presence. And even more, with my camera I can preserve the moment, so that when the flurry eventually quiets and when time slows enough for a pause, a collection of photographs remain that show what a beautiful day it was.

The last few years took away so much from all of us. And yet, I feel like I am still discovering the after-effects… such as my shrunken social battery that depletes unreasonably quickly and ends in a state of overwhelm. But as we all start to come back together, I personally want to remember that I am not supposed to be as isolated as I have been. And it’s these moments in Bermuda that remind me of that the most. When my loving and extroverted Emilia wants to sit down and draw, but also talk her way through exactly WHAT she is drawing. When I arrive home after a shoot, not to a quiet apartment, but to two curly blonde-haired girls screaming “Auntie! Auntie!” and wrapping me up in big hugs. When I try to put the kettle on, or go to the bathroom, or do anything really and can’t shake off the toddler who clings to my leg insisting, “I will NEVER let you go!” I may have arrived back in Toronto and slept in peaceful quiet for days afterwards, but my Christmas holiday was exactly how I hoped it would be- filled with family and connection, and more of each than I have had in years.

autumn in review

Sunday, December 4th, 2022

I am trying to learn

from the autumn leaves,

the way they dance

before letting go.

-pavana reddy

Autumn is the season I wait for all year. It begins with blank notebooks and sharpened pencils and even though I no longer go *back-to-school*, I still deem these necessities. My birthday soon follows in mid-September and no matter the year, I make sure it is filled with champagne and friends. Another year in this life is always worth a celebration. Seemingly overnight, the leaves turn crimson and we gather with family to give thanks, drink wine and honour the October harvest. And then before long, we welcome the November chill and the first snow, enjoying autumn’s final stretch before winter blankets us in stillness.

To me, autumn has always felt like a fresh start. I am far more likely to set intentions in September rather than on January 1st and I honestly cannot say whether this is because of my birthday or the changing season. Still, autumn feels like a reset, a call back to myself. It feels like an invitation to slow down after the sticky, hedonistic summer, to reflect on the year so far and to settle into the rhythm of gratitude for the remaining days. But maybe my favourite part about autumn is that it serves as a reminder to let go, and shows us all the incredible beauty you find when you do.

* * *

This year, I returned home from vacation and ended my relationship. The first two weeks of September were a dizzying combination of jet lag and heartbreak, neither of which can be cured with anything but time. Nevertheless, on the 15th I celebrated my 31st and almost immediately retreated to bed, infected with this year’s flu or some other vengeful bug. The remainder of the month was spent this way and I only popped out to enjoy tea and fresh air within a two block radius of my apartment. It was nasty and remains such a blur to me and the only consolation was that I could begin October with a surplus of appreciation for my generally good health. All in all, it certainly wasn’t the “You’ve Got Mail” intro to my fall season, but I was slowly feeling better and for that I was grateful.

I woke up bright and early on October 1st for a family shoot and in hindsight, that was a foreshadowing of the month ahead. October was THE busiest month in my business so far and I am still overwhelmed by the number of families that I was able to meet in just a few short weeks. The colours were beautiful, the days were temperate and lots of kiddies enjoyed hunting for red leaves in the breaks between smiling for my camera. I relinquished all semblance of a routine and honestly, I had trouble setting defined “days off” for myself- certainly one of the growing pains of running a one-woman business. But, as we all know (especially photographers) autumn is as beautiful as it is fleeting and I was determined to make the most of it.

And to my pleasant surprise, November graced us with more time!…with more mild days and the absence of snow. A few brave families booked shoots and I was thrilled to be able to work within the magic of the month. October might be warm and colourful, but November is moody and commanding and whenever I had a misty day, I was on cloud nine. My edits, by this point, had been consistent and I made sure to send each family teasers (especially ones eager to print Christmas cards!). But in spite of my best efforts, these edits eventually formed a kind of bottleneck and the longer nights offered me the chance to light some candles and make my way through them all. Slowly, but surely and always with a cup of tea.

* * *

And somehow, as I sit here writing this, it is the last night of November. December 1st arrives in the morning, Christmas is just weeks away and sure enough, as I look outside my window, a few flakes of snow dance past the streetlight that has been on since 4:30pm. Winter will be here soon and I will have to bid farewell to my beloved autumn for another year. But if there is anything I learned from autumn itself, it is how to say goodbye- how to let go in order to make room for rest, and then eventually and naturally, to make room for new growth.

At this point in my life, it feels like I have had to let go countless times and though I am exhausted by it, I sense nature reminding me that this practice never ends. I did not actually set any intentions for myself this September, but technically speaking, there are a few weeks left in autumn and I am setting one now. I want to find more lightness in the letting go, more joy. Even more, I want to celebrate it. I want to remember that letting go of what is no longer meant for me is simply creating more space for all that is. In that loss, inevitable sadness but also, infinite possibility.

Autumn is the season of change and this year, I think it was me.

what to wear: family session

Sunday, October 9th, 2022

It is Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada, and families are gathering together to baste the turkey, get the pie in the oven and enjoy some flannel-wrapped merriment. Autumn is always a busy season for family shoots and what better time to get around to this blog post of what to wear- the family session edition.

If you read my earlier post about maternity shoots, many of my general rules overlap. I still favour natural fabrics (cotton, linen, wool) in neutral colours (earth tones, pastels, grey, cream, navy). And I still advocate for comfort… always…ESPECIALLY when there are toddlers involved.

But with family shoots, there are just more bodies to dress. Often, families want to look like a cohesive bunch, while avoiding the 1990’s Gap-ad pitfall of clones in white t-shirts and blue jeans. And I agree- the goal should be to coordinate, but not to match exactly. I think this is most easily done by sticking to the same colour palette, while finding different clothing pieces for each person- maybe your family looks best in earth tones, but Dad is rocking the dark brown chunky knit, Mom is in a cream sweater dress, and little Timmy is in a striped beige onesie. Or maybe, it is the summertime, and you and your daughters all want to wear white linen dresses (…my absolute dream), but you decide to add some variety and choose a different style for each dress. Allowing the pieces to be similar in one way (tone, texture, fabric) and different in another way will help you look coordinated enough. But also, if it is the morning of the shoot and your toddler insists on wearing their bright pink princess dress, that is cool too.

If we are shooting in the fall and winter, layering knits will be your best friend- texture photographs so well! I love adding wool coats, chunky scarves or an extra cardigan- it gives you some variety in your photographs without even changing your outfit. If we are shooting in the summer, less is more and remember that sweat often just looks like a *glow*on camera. No matter the season, bring a cozy blanket (or two) with you because the shots of you sitting all cuddled up together are often the favourites.

And since pictures are worth a thousand words, here are some of my favourite family looks…

the day we met

Sunday, August 21st, 2022

Very nearly one year ago… August 22nd, tomorrow, to be precise…

I drove to the airport to pick up a handsome American boy who was flying in from Ohio, through Chicago. He was coming to stay with me for twelve days, and even though we had spent over eight months talking every day, I had never actually met him.

Our friends and families found this all a bit surprising- perhaps a long weekend visit was more reasonable? But, we had waited so long for the border to reopen that both of us quickly agreed, twelve days just made sense.

I did my hair (it fell flat right away in the summer humidity), sprayed myself with a perfume I bought when I lived in France (reserved for only the most special of occasions) and was on my way. My friends were texting me excitedly, asking if I was nervous. Somehow, I wasn’t at all.

I parked the car just as he was crossing over from the terminal to the garage. He found the wrong floor, walked down a flight of stairs and finally emerged from the stairwell to see me standing there, waiting. He was tall and his smile was warm and he was wearing a brown button-up that now hangs in my closet. He dropped his duffel bag to the ground and for the first time, we kissed. I remember feeling how fast his heart was beating through his white t-shirt and thinking how sweet that was. It was surreal, sure, all at once confronted with the physical realities of each other. But, it was also calm and inexplicably familiar and the next twelve days flew by so fast that we only wished for another twelve.

This summer has been hectic and demanding and life has a funny way of making the distance feel even more unbreachable at times. Nevertheless, August 22nd is a special day and as I sit here in his brown button-up, smelling of French perfume and ready for tomorrow’s date over FaceTime, I think of the two people we were that day. Fearless and unwavering in our belief in each other, giddy and excited. Ready, for the first twelve days of many.

what to wear: maternity session

Sunday, July 24th, 2022

One wildly popular question I get asked before any shoot … but, what do we wear?!

As someone who creates a detailed outfit list before any vacation, I deeply understand these desires to look your best and plan ahead. Eventually, I will be doing a post dedicated to each type of shoot and first up, one of my favourite shoots of all- maternity!

During a shoot, you will have the opportunity for two, maybe even three outfits in total. I do recommend taking advantage of this, not only to incorporate more of your favourite outfits, but also to give some variety to your final images. Most of the women I shoot do not wear maternity items per se, and judging by my own closet of flowing floral dresses, I understand how. I have compiled my favourite options below, but no matter what you choose to wear, my advice always reverts back to comfort- your outfit should allow you to move, to walk with your partner, to lay down and close your eyes, feeling the soft kicks inside. This shoot is also a celebration, and what better way to honour the body than allowing it to just be.

1) The Flowing Dress

Given my overall aesthetic and life ethos, it is hardly surprising that this is the first option (and likely my favourite). The flowing dress, made out of soft cotton or linen, falling over the curves of the body in a delicate drape. It is flattering, beautifully timeless and the perfect way to romanticize this chapter. Opt for soft neutrals, pastels, a classic white … or maybe even a floral print to make this photographer’s photo dreams come true.

2) The Form-Fitting Dress

A dress that we avoided during all other times of adult life- the form-fitting, or “body-con” dress. It is truly perfect for showing off the bump, and particularly awesome for silhouette portraits, and more minimal portraits taken at a distance. I personally love this look in combination with something a bit more flowy to have the best of both worlds.

3) The Slip Dress

Another romantic option I love! The way the silk falls along the body, sensuously kissing each curve. Magic. And quite frankly, pretty sexy. Pair it with a draped cardigan and some amazing jewellery to complete the look.

4) The White Shirt

Hello, old friend. The classic white shirt- something we all have in our wardrobes already, or better yet, borrow his for an oversized look. I love this undone completely, tied up, buttoned strategically for some coverage, you name it.

5) The Robe

The robe, the shawl, the kimono, the cardigan- a layering piece worn about a hundred different ways. Pair it with a form-fitting dress or a slip dress as an easy way to “switch” your outfit without even changing. Or, layer it over your underwear to add some coverage, while still showing off your shape. It is easy, lightweight and so flattering in the way it delicately covers.

6) … Nothing!

The final option… and one that truthfully, I hope more women choose! I get it- it is innately uncomfortable to have a woman with a camera come into your home and photograph you at your most bare. Totally strange. BUT, I promise you, you are in good hands. I will honour your best angles, find some ease in the situation and help you feel your most beautiful. One of my clients even told me afterwards that her nude portraits were some of her favourite of the whole shoot! And in the end, to quote the legendary Moira Rose, “Take a thousand naked pictures of yourself now. One day you will look at those photos with much kinder eyes”.

Well, I am the kinder eyes taking your photo today, and I can’t wait to document this chapter for you.

why I photograph love

Sunday, May 29th, 2022

Photograph by Madeleine Dalkie

To me, love is everywhere.

Romantic I know, but let me elaborate.

Love, for me, is rooted in observation, in curiosity. In acceptance. In gratitude. Love is being present enough to notice the thing, to celebrate it for exactly what it is and to thank it for its unique presence in the world, for simply existing in all of its perfect and brave authenticity.

I pass a flower blooming on the edge of the city sidewalk, its delicate roots intertwining with concrete. It is alone and already I wish it had friends close by, but in this moment it has me. The pale yellow petals fold into an intricate maze, holding bees like pillowy clouds as they drop in to say hello with a kiss. How it shares its sweet gift with another so generously. I smile at its beauty, at the way it allows the warm breeze to rush across it before setting into stillness once again. Even though a hundred dirty shoes pass by and threaten to crush it in their hurriedness, it has bloomed where it was planted (nature forever teaching us about resiliency). I feel happy even though this flower has not done anything for me- it has not given me a present on my birthday, nor ran an errand on my behalf during a busy time. It has not complimented me on my new haircut. What I feel for it doesn’t really have anything to do with me at all. It simply exists, as it is, and my day is made all the more wonderful for it. An act of love.

I think I found love everywhere starting at an early age because I needed to. I couldn’t find it at home, no matter how badly I wanted to. Instead of comfort, I found fear and instead of acceptance, shame. Instead of love, my heart broke about a thousand times. I was told, often, that there was no love to be found in me either, that I did not possess anything lovable in my small innocent body. I was told that I would have to try really hard to become someone different, someone that could earn love one day, maybe. This person who was supposed to love me before I even entered this life could not see all the love around her and blamed me for its absence. So I found love everywhere else to remind myself that it existed, and I let it surround me. I would run barefoot across the grass, reaching the pond with wet cheeks, the quiet of dusk wrapping me up like a soft blanket. I would watch as a fish leapt fearlessly into the air for the mosquito hovering above. And if the mosquito escaped, the fish would leap again, trusting in itself, believing in its ability to survive. An act of love.

Over the years, I reassured myself that I was worthy of love. This was harder to believe at times, or with certain people. People that want the rose but not the thorn, so to speak. People that want the ease of loving the pretty thing without the effort of loving the thing that truly needs the love. I tried to show only my pretty things and although my soul was craving love, my behaviour was merely seeking approval, something that very weakly resembles love. It took me many years to be brave and to show another the cracks, the darkness, the still open wound— and ask, “but can you love this too?” For me, bravery was knowing that while not everyone would be able to answer “yes”, I would still be okay in the end because I answered “yes” to myself. An act of love.

They say what you do is not who you are and while I tend to agree, I find those things inextricably linked in me. Photography is what I do, but love is who I am and love is there in every photograph I take. Capturing everyday moments of love has become my career, but observing them was always my passion, my reason to hope, my lifeline to joy. I am so grateful for all the couples, families and souls who have welcomed me in to see them, to get to know them and to let them shine exactly as they are. It has been my greatest act of love to believe in its very existence and when I am behind my camera, I see that it is possible, that it is abundant, and that it is more wonderful than I ever dreamed.

a warm welcome to rose and sunday

Sunday, May 1st, 2022

A few years ago, I had wrapped my third wedding season. Seemingly overnight, photography had gone from a beloved hobby to my career as I was plucked from obscurity onto a team of wildly talented photographers. I was busier than I had ever envisioned, so grateful for the opportunities and fabulous events that I was a part of…. and burnt out. I was completely and utterly burnt out.

My apartment was a cluttered mess, my body was so run down it was turning against me and emotionally, I was overwhelmed. I desperately craved an escape and if I found one, I didn’t want to come home again.

That was January 2020.

I didn’t know what my next step was going to be- I only knew that what I had been doing was not sustainable. I thought, perhaps photography was better suited to something part-time or even a passion project on the side. A hobby, just like it had been since I was a child.

And then came March. And with it, a global pandemic.

“I thought, perhaps photography was better
suited to something part-time…”

It was a time of such collective heartache, separation and fear as we watched the world screech to a halt. I was without work and wasn’t sure what a career, or life for that matter, would look like under these new circumstances. But, I was able and blessed enough to hunker down. I watched movies, read books, and rediscovered cooking- a passion of mine that also fell by the wayside in all of the busyness. I bought plants and watched them grow. I built a gallery wall in my living room and shed tears as my long-awaited visions of home finally came true. I didn’t pick up my camera for a while, but when I did once again, it was for me…only for me, to explore and to express all the complexities of what I was feeling.

And in that time, healing.

“I didn’t pick up my camera for a while, but when I did once again, it was for me….only for me.”

A little over two years later, I am here. I am working full-time as a photographer once again, though this time around, it is nourishing. Inspiring. Filled with moments that make me want to pick up my camera again and again and get closer and closer to the well of creativity inside.

I never dreamt I’d have a website of my own, but I am so proud of it. Proud of this place that feels like me and represents what I want to create in this world, for the people around me. A place filled with softness and intention, warmth and love. A place for everyday magic, untouched and unbothered by the hectic world outside. A place to sit down for a little while with a cup of tea and a biscuit.
A place with books and laughter and the smell of roses and Sunday mornings. Like the best kind of home, maybe.