Why I Do What I Do

I started out my photographic career as a capturer of the inanimate. Landscapes, flowers, architecture. Of course I took photos at family events and was usually corralled into taking a snap whenever a group photo was required.

Taking portraits however was another story. It intimidated the beans out of me! I felt like I was invading personal space, that I wouldn't be able to make my subject feel comfortable. That I wouldn't do justice to the loveliness that can be found in a gentle smile or the twinkle of the eye.

Years ago I decided to face my fear (as I suppose one should with anything that makes one anxious) and signed up for a five day photography course in Savannah, Georgia with a photographer who's work I'd come to admire - and had heard wonderful things about his seminars. This wasn't to be a specifically technical course, this was to be a journey in discovering who we wanted to be as photographers.

I could write for pages and pages about what transpired over those five (and unexpectedly frigid!) days one April in Savannah, but for the sake of brevity I'll just tell you about one key outcome for me.

One of our assignments was to journal our experience, and we started off on the first page with a request to write down what we hoped to get out of the course. Mine was simple. Capture Joy.

And with every person I've since photographed this has been my mission. Yes, sometimes with the little ones I'm also capturing a pout, frustration or the start of a meltdown...but that's what little ones are about! But for the most part, it's about love, affection, humour and above all joy. My absolute honour to be there with my camera to capture it.

The photos attached to this blog were taken a few weeks ago on our street. One very lovely neighbour and her adorable daughter Miss L. As a mom to a teenaged daughter heading off to university very soon, those mother - daughter moments warm my heart like nothing else can.

Pure Joy. For these two, and me.

Thank you to Craig Tanner for helping me to open this door.