Hannah Nicole | Senior Portraits in "Paris"

"Maybe you should go to Paris. It helped me a lot."

"I WAS THERE FOR THIRTY-FIVE MINUTES ONCE. CHANGING PLANES."

 "Oh, but Paris isn't for changing planes, it's... it's for changing your outlook, 

for... for throwing open the windows and letting in... 

letting in la vie en rose." 

Sabrina [1954]

"You've worked hard and you've been through a lot, it's time for you to spread your wings, to go to Paris."  My dad, ever the rom-com-lover, has a knack for making movie references at perfect times in real life (like when I draped onto his bedroom door, with a seven-page handwritten later from Caleb in hand, rocking back and forth with the hinges, asking his advice on what I should do:  "Who are you kidding, he had you from hello."  Or the day after Caleb proposed and I showed dad my ring "I cannot believe that anyone can deserve you, but it apppears I am overruled.")  He was talking to me as I approached my high-school graduation.  I knew he wasn't talking about literal Paris, but he called me Sabrina and thanked me for my years over the garage and wanted me to find myself as a woman.

You know when you meet someone during their years in Paris, and Hannah has just arrived, suitcase in hand.  La Vie en Rose means "the pink-tinged life" or "life in love."  I think in some ways once you go to "Paris" you never really leave, at least not in your heart, and you're always learning yourself.  She's off to Seattle and art school and wet, windy autumn.  It will throw open her windows.

In anticipation for this new 'country' of her life, I wanted to photograph Hannah in a way that she hasn't seen herself.  Hannah is most comfortable in soft, jammie-type clothes with messy hair and chapstick.  She loves cheese, but hates mac-and-cheese, and learned about poise-through-pain during ballet.  She has been writing indirectly about her ache, and recently shared more details of her reality.

Dear Hannah, 

Oftentimes, in my short experience on earth, people need to think more and pay better attention.  Many use words that they don't know what they mean (I'm guilty of this, I've learned -- I try hard to speak accurately) and they create a life of fake happiness and pretend.  That isn't to say they don't have genuine joy or care about good things, but so often there is fear and even inability to be honest in their own brains and hearts.  Their is a flimsiness to their world.  You are unlike these people.  

You, young lady, have balanced the truth of your struggle with sincere respect to your family.  Life hasn't been "The Hannah Show," no, most of the times it's "The Make One More Peanut Butter Sandwich and Fold One More Towel and Tie One More Pair of Shoes Before Math Problems Show," which can be a very boring show some seasons.  But throughout the lonely homework nights, the upheaval, the not-traveling to exotic places, the responsibility, the break-downs, the photographs, the complicated emotions, you have been on a treasure hunt.  You have been unwilling to give-up on beauty and you crave the depth that only pain can teach.  Your self-awareness and kindness are moving.  The adjectives you use when you speak and write are accurate, not excessive or unnecessary (but, I mean, we both want to get better at describing with verbs, right? ;) 

Sometimes, if I can offer a word of advice, I think it's time to pause the search and settle in for an embrace.  There is much you will be, and there is more that you don't know than you do know, nevertheless you are not average nor are you dumb.  But it's okay to 'be' and stand up straight at times.  You have maturity greater than most I know (and I look up to you for that.)  You are more talented, more wise, more happy than I think you give yourself credit for.  I wanted to show you in images what I see in your heart: a knock-out, strong, canny, red woman and you do not fade into the background.  Looking under the couches and in the dirt has rewarded you with many gifts; don't hoard them away waiting for the perfect time, until you are all you want to be.  Pull them out and use with confidence.

God has made you to speak, sometimes with your fingers and sometimes with your pictures and sometimes with your mouth.  He will make others to listen and learn.  I love your easy sweetness and how you giggled with your hands over your mouth, shaking your head in disbelief, when you saw these pictures.  "I can't even look at them!" you said.  "It's...I.. I just look so beautiful."  You said it like you almost believed it, too.  You are Hannah.  You are beautiful.  

You are beautiful because you write me tear-jerking texts that I never respond to and you write again.  You are beautiful because you have laid in dark rooms on various couches, unable to sleep.  You are beautiful because you love your father and you love your mother and you love the family they've given to you.  You are beautiful because you enjoy comfort food, and you meet the Comforter in His meals.  You are beautiful because your eyes.  You are beautiful because you sat in my house, engaging my dad and my little sisters and my baby boy, with sincerity.  You are beautiful because laughing hard brings tears to your eyes and your desire is written all over your face:  You're looking forward to the next time that happens, hopefully in a couple minutes.  You are beautiful because you take the time to listen and take the time to write.  You are beautiful because you are generous.  You are beautiful because you're brave and you're beautiful because you're scared and you're especially beautiful because you know they go hand-in-hand.  You are beautiful because you savor mango salsa.  You are beautiful because you're peaceful. 

Go off to Seattle and be yourself and please keep sharing with us, because learning from you has been one of the most clear 'goods' of this year.  La Vie en Rose, my friend.

Admiringly,

Kristen

"ONCE UPON A TIME THERE LIVED A SMALL GIRL. 

AND LIFE WAS PLEASANT AND VERY, VERY SIMPLE.

BUT, ONE DAY, THE GIRL GREW UP AND WENT BEYOND THE WALLS OF THE GROUNDS

AND FOUND THE WORLD."

--- + --- + --- + --- + --- + --- to book your own i'm kristen family session,  especially in the maryland/virginia/dc, or oklahoma to dallas areas E-MAIL ME HERE

Alt Summit in Salt Lake City {Travel}

“it's kind of fun to do the impossible.”

walt disney

Alright alright alright.  See if you track with me on this one:

 Narnia, in the winter.  Trees and snow and castles in the distance?  Great.  Remember that.

Now go ahead and enjoy the Sultan's palace from Aladdin.  Lavish and layered and courtyard-y, snuggled richly into a valley by mountains.

Okay, so, now, put them together.  Narnia. Sultan's Palace. Narnia.  Sultan's Palace. Narnia Palace.  Chronicles of Sultan.  Palace of Nartan.  Narnia and Sultan.  GRAND AMERICA HOTEL IN SALT LAKE CITY.

 

Hey? Heeeey? Yeah, hey.  Do you see what I see?  A child, a child... er- a town, a town high above the sea, with a view as "whoa" as could be?  Heeeeey:

It even works at night.  Let's do this thang again.  Glowy, sparkly lights, tiny town:

Moody mountainous moonlit night? 

GRAND AMERICA HOTEL AT SALT LAKE CITY.

I've been channeling my inner Disney Princess by sighing to myself and saying "Ooooh Rajah!" as I gaze out my hotel room window, longing to experience the real world - beyond these walls!!!   But next thing I know I'm worried sick for my four-legged friends, hoping they don't turn into statues.  It's extremely emotional being a guest at this hotel, let me warn you.

;)

Obviously I'm kidding.  I'm really quite spoiled with the unreal quality of this town and establishment (great choice Alt Summit folks!), the stirring and sweet classes (good work Alt Summit folks!), the head-turning fashion of EVERYONE (nicely done Alt Summit attendees!) and the quality time with my Canadian bestie, Jamie Delaine (Also known as "Jamz" between 6:00am-7:30pm, or "Gramz" from 7:31 pm and on.  She jams hard, then turns into a one-woman-old-folks-home.)

 
Once I'm home and my conference brain has turned back to normal brain,  I'll tell you something actually helpful/interesting about this conference.  I probably won't even use a Disney reference.  Except that tomorrow I get to meet Anya from Project Runway (like how I said that so nonchalantly? Like I don't really care at all? It was smooth like the first shave of your life.) (Also, I care a lot that I'm meeting her.  I'm not even going to pretend like I just want her to have a normal life with normal friends, like I'm not some crazy fan-girl who just wants to touch her maxi dress.  I AM A CRAZY FAN GIRL.) Anyways,  it'll basically be like having a real-life Jasmine in a Disney Palace.  It was cool when I was five and in Anaheim, and it's still cool now!


Alright.  Good night.  It's been a long day and I am kind of feeling like I didn't give Narnia much facetime in this post, so why don't you read these last few words in a British accent and I'll feel better.  Cheer up, darling!  And go to sleep you blessed, blessed doll.  (And go to Alt Summit next year everyone.  You will truly love it.)

Six Weeks of Behr {Baby Photography + Personal}

This is the main man on campus, Behr.  He's large and in charge.  Known as BehrBehr, Behrly, Barely There, Son, Monk, Chipmunk and Little Dre.  He attracts fans in droves.  He is a big deal around here.  So popular.

Though we all fight for his heart, love and snuggles, no one can replace his favorite friend, his best friend: the bedroom ceiling fan.As Bedroom Fan dances, Behr waves hello! "Hey! Hey you! I like you a loooot.  A lot a lot!"  He coos, he  reaches, he kicks... ... he sneezes.
Thaaaat's embarrassing.  Don't worry Behr Man, you were just excited and got a little worked up.  It happens to the best of us.  Bedroom Fan will understand.  "But where did Bedroom Fan go?  I'm just a noisy, childish weight in this friendship.  And I party-fouled all over the place.  Humiliating."Look! Behrly...See?  Bedroom Fan is back!  Waving again! Bedroom Fan does think you are cool after all!  You have not been forsaken, you have not been left by Bedroom Fan.  Look up! Lift your eyes!A man and his Fan, it's a beautiful thing.  The end.
On a more gushy note, I love all of Behr's little self.  From his birthmark on his finger, to his Cabbage-Patch-doll arms, to his very strong legs, his fantastically shaped mouth, his stubby perfect nose, his neck rolls, his side rolls, his thigh rolls, and that big basin of a baby belly - I love it all.  I miss him in the morning before he is "up" and I'm addicted to seeing his new faces and skills throughout the day.

Hey you.
You are very cute.  And very loved.  And so silly.  And you probably will never love me as much as I love you (or as much as you love Bedroom Fan) but you make me smile a lot, so we'll keep you around.

Kyle + Sarah {Great Falls Wedding in Potomac, MD}

you're a part time lover and a full time friend
the monkey on you're back is the latest trend
i don't see what anyone can see, 
in anyone else but you
the moldy peaches | anyone else

"Our wedding will be quirky in 'us' ways.  For example, this is the wording for our invitation: 

1 Marriage

between 2 People

3, almost 4, years after meeting

at 5:06pm, 

reception following at 7:08pm 

on 9/10/11."

THAT is what I'M talking about. That's what's up. This couple is brilliant and adorable and dance machines and a little nerdy.  I love them.  Enjoy their story.

Fair Oaks Academy was a small private school founded in Virginia, and with a junior class of fourteen girls and four boys, it was ideal set for true love.  A new "she" walked in, and a dark-eyed, moppy-topped, big-hearted boy noticed.  That scene would stay stamped to his heart for years to come, for it was the scene when he first met Sarah.This Sarah is quite a character.  Kyle tells me "She is not a detail-oriented person, she is more of... a big-dream kind of person.  But with me? She wants to know everything.  She cares about every single one of my thoughts."  That is an impressive statement.  Think about life with that sort of companion.  It's like life with a detective, collecting data, compiling clues and assembling conclusion about you.  Paying attention to the in-s and out-s of you... simply because they love, crave even, knowing as much as possible of you.  It's truly a breath-taking reality. "When she surprised me with a gift on my birthday last year, her imagination effected the whole day - not just the gift.  She puts an immense amount of creative thought... to effecting people for Christ. And she is adventurous!  But I think the thing I love most about Sarah is her dedication to the life that she lives.  She wears so many different hats - barista, fiance', Campus Crusade for Christ leader - and she gives all of herself." After reading about this all-there, creative dreamer named Sarah, I couldn't wait to meet her.  As the minutes rolled along on wedding day I grew more and more concerned.  We were literally minutes before ceremony time (at 5:06, remember?) and there was no Sarah yet.  No bridesmaids.  No dress.  No shoes.  So I waited while guests found their seats and milled about.  I waited while lovely ladies put finishing touches on the dinner tables.  I waited while the sun met the trees for dinner.  And then *WHOOSH!* there were cars rumbling, doors slamming, girly gaggles, honks and "huurrrriy!"'s.  I only managed to grab a shot of an adorable baby-faced bride's feet as she flew inside.   "What time is it? Ah! Hurry!  I need to put this on!" "Sarah, be careful of your hair. And someone is in here..." "Well, they need to get out! The bride needs this room!" "Did you leave the hairspray in the car? She needs hairspray." "WhAahhha. This is too crazy.  Oh goodness. KRISTEN! Hi! It's so good to meet you!" "Sarah, hold still."  "What time is it?"
A beautiful two-stall bathroom was raucous with one bride, her chiffon clad gal pals, an overjoyed photographer and someone else using the restroom.  It was hilarious.  It was fantastic.  Though the pictures may seem serene and posed, the wooden room literally echoed and roared with women.  I couldn't stop smiling. And all their scrambling payed off.  At 5:06 the ring-bearer, Woody and the red-wagon were ready to walk down the aisle. Grandpa and his tale-telling eyes were ready to be seated. Best friends were in place.

Complete strangers were even ready.

As was the lovely Sarah.  Lovely, lovely Sarah.  She was grinning, her dimples were deep and her man was ready to give her his name and life.

"He gets SO passionate about his ministry, and puts his whole heart into it. I LOVELOVELOVE watching him love people. I love watching him teach people, continuously discover God, and opening up those ideas right to me."

"To him, who wants to be a youth pastor, every nugget of truth he studies about God is never as good until everyone else knows it.  He cannot wait to tell the teens what he's learned.  He is bold in faith.  He is active in faith.  He aims to lead us in an honest and effective journey to spread and live the gospel...... and goodness do I love him all over again for it." Years after he met Sarah, he designed a brilliant and sneaky plan to propose to her.  He waited in the shell of the classroom where he first laid eyes on her, where to this day he remembers exactly what she was wearing, with two chairs arranged exactly as they were that day.  He waited for Sarah to come with a friend to explore the building where Fair Oaks Academy used to run.  He waited with the light on in a downstairs classroom.  She saw his shoe.  She saw him.  He asked her a question.  She said "yes" over and over.As the historical documenter for this day I want you folks to know something:  I love Kyle and Sarah.  Like, I actually love them.  I have only seen them one day in my entire life.  I barely spent six hours with them.  And I love them.  
I love their genuine and delightful way of enjoying their families.I love all of Sarah's girls and their witty senses of humor. I love Sarah's timely remarks and very, very quirky self.I love that they are just happy people.  They know who they are and what they have been given, so they are happy.     I love their awkward fish move.I love that they play together. A lot. I love that they get the fire burnin' fire burnin' on the dance floor. WhooOooa.

I love that Sarah was somewhat of a shy-public kisser.  And I love that Kyle just consistently went in for the kill.

I love their heart together.  Two of the biggest-hearted people I've ever met.  

I love how they felt like lifetime friends or family to me with minutes.  I love that God brought them together in Fair Oaks Academy and is now sending them out to the world. Together.

This wedding reminded me of some important life priorities.  This wedding blessed me.

Though it was truly very simple and not elaborate, it was fantastically heart-warming and meaningful, even to a complete stranger like me.  Guests chattered, dinner lingered, toasts were so kind, love reigned over all.

And Curly Kyle Kid married Quirky Sarah.

What bliss!  You party-rockers :D

Lightfoot Triplets | Baby Photography

"you better be prepared to  be surprised."sondre lerche | to be surprised
I don't care who you are: at some point in your life you've thought about what it would be like to have a baby.  Even if it was only for a split second.  Even if it was in disgust thinking "That is just WAY too much work.  I'm never having children."  Maybe your first thought went to the lifestyle and body changes: not having freedom to go out or travel, gaining weight and stretchmarks - you get the picture ;)
But for many people (particularly women) there is a natural, nurturing, full part of your heart that can't help but think fondly of that day when you have your own child.  Sometimes it seems bizarre to hold another person's baby, but what if this was mine? What does it feel like to have a person inside you?  Is it as magical as some women claim?  Is it as awful as other women claim?  Is it a healthy dose of wonderful and terrible?  Will my first baby be a boy or girl?  Will the child look like me?  Will he be a good baby? Will I be a sleep-hungry, smelly monster?  Will I spend hours staring at the baby counting it's ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes?  
Maybe that is just me.  I do have an extraordinary love for children, particularly babies.  But I'll tell you one thing:  I've NEVER imagined counting 60 toes and fingers after my first pregnancy.  Nope.  It hadn't crossed my mind.  I'm told that giving birth to triplets hadn't crossed the mind of my smart, sweet and glowing winter 2010 bride, either.  She was s.h.o.c.k.e.d.  SHOCKED.  How could you not be?  SIXTY FINGERS AND TOES INSIDE YOU.  Who prepares for that?  Jennifer and David, though completely surprised, have been equally thrilled.  They love all those fingers and toes.By winter 2011 this little lady and her kind man were holding Makenna, Noah and Emma, their firstborns. With an army of support, love, generosity, bottles, arms and adrenaline, these three siblings were welcomed into a Florida town.  Hundreds of friends have prayed, waited, given and helped mom and dad take care of their little lives.  And kiss all their toes. I've never seen baby triplets in person before.  It was a very, very odd feeling.  One baby gives me so many feelings and wonders in my heart.  But three was just... overwhelming and beautiful. Their lives, though in every way a surprise to this world, were planned long before this world had a chance to be surprised.  Their lives, like every life, entered this stage right on cue.  God wanted them, and He wanted them now, and He wanted Jennifer and David to raise them.  Not Katie and Bill.  Not Sue and Todd.  But Jennifer and David.  He gave these three to them specifically. And they are spectacular.

From their rosebud lips, to Noah's "hound dog" eyes, to their pink little bodies, to their double chins, smooth bald heads, grunts and kicks and rounded bellies they are beautiful and miraculous and "planned."  "As I have planned, so it shall be."  Spending just over an hour with this little/big family gave me such a needed vision of God's ability, kindness and power over us.  It's actually unbelievable that three humans grew inside one human, and now they are here: screeching, looking, breathing, wriggling, eating, learning and functioning.  They have been joys to friends near and far, they have been blessings in their neediness, happinesses in their dependance.  They aren't exactly productive or "useful," but they are people and are loved so much.  They reminded me to love people in my life: the inconvient people, the "surprise!" people, the difficult people, the family-people (who are easily taken for granted), the unhelpful people, the sweet and innocent people.  They reminded me to look at some wrinkly toes and see God.  And to praise Him.  In reality all people can and should do that to me, but there was something about touching and seeing three infants that hit that lesson home.

On that chubby, roll-y, soft belly note, let's call this post a day :D

Nicole + Kim {Weddings}

“she’s kept her love for him as alive as the summer they first met."

nicole krauss | the history of love

Enjoy the moving writing of Nicole Krauss brought to life by Kim, who married the boy she loves (a lifelong friend) five days ago.

"Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone's hair. 

And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted--wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. 

In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt.  Part of you thought: Please don't look at me. If you don't, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me.

Well, once upon a time there was a boy.  He lived in a village that no longer exists, in a house that no longer exists, on the edge of a field that no longer exists,...

...where everything was discovered and everything was possible.

A stick could be a sword.  A pebble could be a diamond.  A tree a castle.

Once upon a time there was a boy who lived in a house across the field from a girl who no longer exists.  They made up a thousand games.

She was Queen and he was King.

In the autumn light, her hair shone like a crown.


They collected the world in small handfuls.

Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was the question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.
” 

Music + Times | Part 1 {Personal}

after all, my plans they melt
into the sand

band of horses | older

Have you ever noticed that music is strange and fantastic emotional time-travel?  Have you ever listened to just three seconds of a song and instead of driving on the highway to a meeting you are tan, talking to your best friend late at night, alive and well?  Though in reality approaching an exit in your frosty, rusty Corolla in a grey day, you instead smell warm night, tacos and fruity deodorant.  Instead you hear glowing laughter, you are having lingering conversation, you are with very specific people on a very specific night.  And the verse to the song hasn't even started yet! Am I the only one who has ever experienced this phenomenon?

Of course not.

That is why the world loves music.  I don't mean why "artists" and "musicians" and the "intellectually understanding" love music.  It's why all of us - even us who aren't trained in the art - love it.  Music makes us feel.  Music and smells take you back in time.  Music and friends get you through current times.  Music and dreams excite you for future times.  What an enjoyable gift God gave us in music! 

"Come into my arms, where a dreamer can meet the Lullaby Lady from Hushabye Street." Hushabye Street was playing on a cassette tape my entire baby and childhood.  I never remember not knowing that song.  When I hear it I'm laying on my back in my wooden, bead-cut, crib staring up to the dark ceiling.  Through cracks in the door I could hear the muffled voices of my parents and the dishwasher starting up. I could see a haloed glow.  And night after night sleep was victorious with me "till evening greets morning on Hushabye Street."

18 months after I was born, my brother Timothy entered my world.  The closest friendship he and I ever had was when we were homeschooled in middle school together.  Our "tradition" for lunch was to make a box of pasta with red sauce, eat half of it, throw the rest away, leave the dirty dishes out and then head to the basement for hand-stand contests.  Yup.  We were often in our parents pajamas, too.  (I have no idea why...) We would spend up to hours on end before basketball practices in the underbelly of a home on Boxberry Terrace trying to walk on our hands.  Tim always swore he walked 10 times when I went to the bathroom or wasn't looking.  I always blamed him for distracting me - "I have better balance then you! You just distract me!" - (like I didn't distract him ;) haha).  We got into a habit of taking our blue $14.99 boombox down with us, and we'd gymnast it up to Tim McGraw duets or Steven Curtis Chapman.  One particular day I grabbed a hairbrush and dramatically belted Faith Hill's portion of "Like We Never Loved At All."  I handed Tim a water bottle to join in.  He didn't accept my offer.  He just stared and shook his head "You are so weird." I sang the chorus alone.  But by Tim McGraw's part in the second verse my own Tim had joined in with me.  And we weirdly sang the rest of the song together.  It was quite excellent and breathtaking and probably perfectly in tune ;)

Maybe that's just your way of dealing with the pain/ Forgetting everything between our rise and fall / Like we never loved at all

Tim, if you ever read this, I love you and miss those times.  I've never forgotten them and would love to have more of them.  Just promise you won't push me over if I get to nine hand-steps?

Jason Reeves came into my life a-la Colbie Caillat.  His songs were songs I loved before I felt.  I thought they were pretty and kind of edgy (give me a break. They WERE edgy compared to Selah and WOW Worship CD's).  I played his album on repeat for months.  Little did I know how I feel them.  This song doesn't take me back to one place like the previous song did.  This song takes me backs to a watercolor smear of years.  The first piano notes "dun dun, DUN DUN, duuundun" make me feel 14 and 20, confused and clear, empty and full.  And I have poetry and drawings of my life when you weren't on my side and I didn't know /

The person who introduced me to Band of Horses is now my "house-mate."  If you've followed the blog a bit you know that I live with my friends-turned-family, Dre and Becca.  You also might know that they just had their first child, little Behr.  Dre is obsessed with Band of Horses.  When this song plays I think about driving around in their blue SUV looking at townhouses.  I think about priming the walls with Dre will Becca sat on a cushion on the floor, trying to keep her pregnant self moderately comfortable.  I think about coming into a house with music already playing because other people live there - I don't live alone.  I think about cleaning their kitchen, waiting for them to come home from the hospital with Behr for the first time, scrubbing to "Dilly" and "Older."  I think about how "after all, my plans they melt into the sand." 

I think about how so many friends have dreamed with Dre and Becca about this little nugget of life.  I think about the Pinterest boards for his nursery, additions to his walls and shelfs from friends near and far, and watching that bump grow and lower as we imagined and talked about and analyzed what he might look like, what he might be like.  I think about the way Behr's neck smells.  I think about how he smiled right at me today.  I think about how someday I'll be strolling along in a store and Band of Horses will pop on the radio and I'll jump into the emotional time machine... I'll be taken back to August 2011 - January 2012ish.  I'll smile and love the memory.
If you find this post random at best, completely boring at worst, I do have a direction I'm going with it ;)  No, these are not my favorite music recommendations for you.  And if you listen to any of these songs you might think "Um. Okay?" I don't listen to these songs frequently at all.  But when they appear, they stop me in my tracks.  You have "those" songs too.  Go find one of them today and listen to it and remember why that song affects your body.  And then say "Oh, I see why Kristen posted those."

BUT.  Someday on this blog I'd like to tell you folks a story.  And I'd like to use songs in the story.  In the next few weeks and months, as I plan on blogging more, if "random" music posts show-up, bear with me, and find some little thing to enjoy.  And feel free to tell me about a song or two that takes you back in time.  I'd truly love to hear.  I'd love to know more about you.  It would probably even make me feel less scared about letting you know more about me ;)

Power to Enjoy | 2012

"...to whom God has given wealth and possessions and 

power to enjoy them."

1 timothy 6:17

If you take even a hasty look through Pinterest boards, texts between friends, advertising and status messages you can't miss the exploration for happiness, being happy.  "Life is to be enjoyed, not endured." someone re-pins the block-lettered yellow and gray typography art and "mmmm's" in agreement.  "K! Talk to you later. Have a good day! :-)" "Open Happiness!" we watch. "OMG. Best day ever. Class was canceled!"  


No one can deny, and everyone loves to note, how it's the little things that matter, happiness is lived in the daily moments.  We are a crew of creation who love laughing, feeling good, being supported by other crazies, and enjoying what we are doing.  I love that.  We should want more of it.  I believe that we were made to want the best, the happiest, the most satisfying things we can get a hold of.  I believe we should not starve those desires but feed them.  I also believe most of us go looking for happiness in all the wrong places, but I would never tell someone to stop looking.  Go forth! And look!  Look for happiness! Enjoy your life!

"Set [your] hopes on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy."  When Paul wrote the first letter to Timothy and used the word "everything" I believe he meant it.  Enjoy everything, for in God everything is enjoyable.  Enjoy a glass of cold Coca-Cola!  Enjoy your day off of school.  Enjoy pins and words and boards and art that just make you smile a little bit.  Enjoy conversation, texts and speaking with friends and people.  Enjoy grocery shopping!  Enjoy eating! Enjoy a change of plans.  Enjoy being tired because staying up late with people you love was happy.  Enjoy going to bed early and feeling great in the morning.  Enjoy. Enjoy everything.  

“And so taking the long way home through the market I slow my pace down.

It doesn't come naturally.

My legs are programmed to trot briskly and my arms to pump up and down like pistons,

but I force myself to stroll past the stalls and pavement cafes.

To enjoy just being somewhere, rather than rushing to somewhere.

I take a moment to just stop and look around me. And smile to myself."
alexandra potter

Enjoy being somewhere.  Actually enjoy it.  You have power to enjoy this world and these things.  And note a fizzy drink or heavy drink or healthy drink will not make you fully happy.  It will not satisfy you forever.  Note that an extra day of break in school is not the source of all happiness.  Note that being liked and feeling good and being productive won't eternally fill you.  There is a greater happiness then these things, they all point to something else, they are tastes of a better, lasting happiness.  But they are indeed happy presents for us!  In God everything is enjoyable. In God. 


So what is my point?  Well, on my first work day of the year I'm openly admitting a few things to readers and friends and anonymous hate-aaaz (who actually make me happy because they make me laugh and I love to laugh!)  Here's the deal:


- I enjoy good food and junk food and eating food.
- I enjoy being my ideal weight and fitting into a certain size.
- I enjoy the feeling after a run.


This year only one of those last three things were prominent.  I enjoyed food a lot.  But that leaves me today not enjoying my size.  I'm not depressed or downtrodden about it ;)  I'd just like to enjoy putting on an outfit and looking in the mirror.  I don't enjoy leaving my warm house and going into the cold to pound around on pavement.  But one of my favorite feelings in the world is to return to that warm home after a run.  I feel great, I genuinely enjoy the feeling.  So.  I am determined to find a way to enjoy all three.  It may mean prioritizing my enjoyment some, but I will enjoy savory food shared with friends, I will enjoy the way I fit in clothes, and I will enjoy that soaring after-run high this year.  

- I enjoy the relationship I have with my parents.  I don't just love them, I really really like them!
- I enjoy children, especially my siblings.
- I enjoy living on my own in Maryland and being "independent." It's fun.


Again, this year it seems that I have let one of the three of these categories take over to the point where I don't fully enjoy all three the way I'd like or think is right.  I miss my parents.  Yes, we text and talk and chit-chat.  But, as anyone could tell you, keep a long-distance relationship with ANYone thriving and well is hard.  I want a thriving, close, laugh-ing, fun, better relationship with my parents (and all those kids!) this year.  Don't get me wrong: It's not like all of a sudden we aren't friends.  But I want it to almost seem like they are here.  I want them to be a part of my days and weeks like they are when they are sitting on the couch or around the table after a long day.  That kind of involvement will take concentrated effort on my part, but I want it because I so enjoy and love and need them.  

- I love writing, journaling, letter-ing and blogging.
- I enjoy means to remember and share "happy gifts" of life.
- I enjoy talking to, meeting with and learning about people in person.


Surprise surprise, one of these "things" has outweighed the others.  The means we have this modern day of using Facebook, Twitter, texting, Pinterest, tumblr, Instagram, etc to share life with other people is good and enjoyable.  But you know what I realized?  I don't actually enjoy Facebook.  Sure, it's fun to stalk.  It's fun to get likes on statuses.  But for whatever reason for me I really don't enjoy it.  I LOVE Instagram. And Pinterest.  And I have a growing love for Twitter.  And I love love love love blogging.  But Facebook? Eh.  I look back this last year and don't think I wrote enough.  I don't think I blogged nearly enough.  I wish I had talked with more people - really talked with them.  I wish I had fleshed out my thoughts on a verse or lyric or statement instead of just posting it on my status.  For example, today I listened to a message and wrote this sentence down from it:
  
"He seems more bothered with complaining then self-indulgence.  
Self indulgence may be misapplying the goodness of God, 
but complaining denies the goodness of God."


My automatic thought was to post it on Facebook.  Even though I had already started writing this very post.  But you know what I would really enjoy doing?  I would enjoy writing about that sentence.  I would enjoy taking it to people and having a conversation with them about it - either in person or online.  I would love to engage that sentence and make it meaningful in my life, not just inspirational for a second.  Therefore, I'm getting off Facebook.  (I will keep my business page.) In order to force myself to do what I enjoy, to use the power I have to enjoy things, I want to just get rid of personal Facebook altogether.   The words and pictures I post on Facebook and the "likes" and interaction I get from there, I would like to move to my blog.  Or to person-to-person storytelling and enjoying.

I suppose this is somewhat of a New Years Resolution, and I don't remember ever doing one of these ;)  Typical me.  But I feel very passionate about it this year.  I'm fanatical about enjoying life and people through God.  I have more to say on the matter, but I realize I have more time to say it.  So we'll close off the first blog post of the year right here.

With love and joy,
Kristen

Parade of 24 Fairy Tales | Weddings in 2011

“If I’m honest I have to tell you I still read fairy-tales, 

and I like them best of all.” 

audrey hepburn

It seems to me that vintage suitcases, Mason Jars, talking about getting a tattoo, tumblrs, and quoting Audrey Hepburn have become oh so current or "done" that perhaps they have lost some of their charm or special-ness.   But I'll be persistent with this particular Audrey quote.  I really agree... not just because it's the thing to do to agree with this Hollywood Classic.
I've been told far too many times that "life isn't like the movies." Relationships aren't as magical as they are on the silver screen.  Love isn't fairy dust and giggles and moonlit walks in a beautiful wardrobe.  We aren't princesses.  Lower your expectations.  Don't wait for "the movie moment."  Real life isn't a fairy tale.  Renditions of these phrases have spoken from preachers in a sermon, from well-meaning friends hoping that I was aware love is much more then how I write about it on my blog - it's not just cute, from anonymous commenters here and there, from the tired or the hurting who barely believe in happiness.
And I'm here to say: I just don't buy it.  If anything, life is most like a movie.  The beauty of a movie is that it happens in about 90 minutes, not 90 years.  Movies can be nowhere near as deep or as beautiful or as painful as real life.  But life is like the movies.  The rise and fall of characters, the great problem with the hunt for the great solution, the unknown, the struggle, the desire... it's everywhere, from Cinderella to my highschool aged sister to 500 Days of Summer to Thumbelina to Kim Kardashian to my boyfriends mother to Pride and Prejudice to Jim and Pam, Noah and Ally, Sandra Bullock and Jesse James to 20-something couples who hired me this year.
Any one of us could take our lives to a talented writer and be a "movie." We could strain our lives to the most prominent times and come up with a decent tale of humanity.  If I myself watched a movie about my life I would probably think "That did not do it justice.  The movie just did not convey how bad _______ hurt or how wonderful ___________ is."  No movie could quite reenact the guarantee I have that it will all be okay.  No movie could express who awful it is to cry about the same exact situation for an entire day. Then an entire week.  Then still be crying over the same issue a year later.  Years later?  Also, a movie can't show how boring most days are.  How regular life is.  "Normal life" looks so cute in a movie (and in a memory.)  But it's usually just... boring.  Then along comes something to make our life chilling or thrilling, terrifying or blissful.  Our hearts sink and leap and quiver and fill.  They flutter and empty and pause and yearn.  
I love movies. I love stories. I love fairy tales, I love them best of all.  I love them because they are like life.  No fairy tale ever goes "Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess with all she ever wanted, with a pure heart and kind spirit.  She fell in love at a young age, never felt any pain, and floated to heaven on a cloud at the end of her life.  The end."  Nor do stories go something like this: "Once upon a time there was a poor girl who was always sad.  There was no reason to ever smile or have hope.  Ever.  She died and everyone forgot who she was."
There is always hope.  There is always some reason to laugh and smile.There is always dissapointment.  There is always some unmet expectation and hurt.In both the fairy tales and in life.
This year I spent many hours enjoying other peoples fairy tales.  I spent time with Jim and Pam at Niagara Falls, with Allie when she shrugs her shoulders in the driveway and Noah knows she is home for good, with Him, with the skeptical Brittany who was relentlessly fought for by her too-kind-to-be-true policeman, with a girl who had to bake a cake to get his attention, with lovers separated by family and religious custom who made their way to each other at last.  I spent time with Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy huddled under a blanket beneath dark skies whispering desperately cheesy lines,  with two best friends who promised they would never ever date each other, with a girl running down the stairs with a glass slipper to present to the Duke, with a man who was locked to the world and found a way to trust one patient woman for life.  
Their wedding's aren't the story, it's just a part of it.  Maybe a line or two.  Maybe a full chapter.  Only a portion.  But their wedding's are real, happy, beautiful, delightful, treasured and good.  They had curls in their hair, they wore gowns, they feasted, they were surrounded by a crew of happy critters, they professed and promised love, they were married.
Enjoy a parade of their tales:

Ryan + Clairisse {Damascus Engagement Shoot}

*REAL QUICK*(fix your readers to this new domain name:http://www.imkristensphotoblog.com/Thank ya kindly.)---
we've felt separate and we've felt the samewe've freed each offer and we laid claimoh yes, the butterflies are still theresua furler | butterfliesBehind his house was a highschool.He went to highschool.Highschool was dramatic, in the stupid ways.Highschool was fun, in the childlike ways.Highschool was full of sports, in the hometown hero, team spirit, community ways.Highschool was for meeting Clairisse, in the life-changed-forever way.Claire thought Ryan was something else.But what girl didn't?Tall, brown-haired, big-eyed, comfortable, funny, confident, kind, athletic and yet kind of dopey in an endearing, sweet way.  Isn't that the definition of a highschool crush?In the meantime, Clairisse was beautiful but quite shy, gentle but private.She isn't the girl who is the center-of-attention, the life-of-the-party, the juicy-one-to-gossip-about.Her truer then true heart and happy contented spirit waved Mr. Ryan down.My dad used to tell me "When a guy goes out to a party he might hang with 99% of the girls there,but he'll go home thinking about the one he didn't speak with."It seems like that was the general effect happening over at Damascus High School.Until one fateful homecoming, when they danced.Ryan says he knew right then that something big had just happened.Clairisse just couldn't believe she was dancing with Ryan.She loves his confidence.He loves her awkwardness.She loves his jokes.He loves her laugh ("the cutest laugh I sure have ever heard.")She and he love music.She and he love talking to each for hours on end.She and he love their God.He loves the way she prays.She loves his daily intake of scripture.He and she love each other.







"Some people may look at us like we are crazy but we are having the time of our lives.""What I love about being with her is that we are not embarrassed to make a fool of ourselves when we are having fun.""What started as a high school romance has really become a lifetime friendship filled with love and laughter."There is an easy feeling with Ryan and Claire.As easy as rooting for your local team.It's just right.Her first kiss will now be the one kissing her good-night until death do they part.His homecoming dance will know be his partner until the end.

It's fascinating how highschool is such a stepping stone.Such a funny little transition in life.Like the train-station before you board a train.
And who would have thought they would find a companion for the rest of the ride in the halls of the Swarmin' Hornets Territory.
It's a sweet story in all the best kind of ways.