It is quiet; it is still, and we are sitting in the kitchen, hypnotized by rain on the window, sensing the heaviness of a storm approaching, sensing something grand.
There is a charge in the air, like we’re on the cusp of adventure, about to transform into something new, like the steam pouring over the side of our cups, lightly floating out into a world born anew.
Yet as I sit and look at you, I can see the verge of quitting on your face, and I hurt for you because I too have looked at myself and lost what it meant to create, tangled up with self-fulfillment, thinking I was born to make so that I would be recognized, forgetting I was designed to create so I could honor life in spite of myself.
There was a time, long ago, when I was lively and still all at once, a vessel of bones that did not shake in uncertainty and doubt, but remained steadfast in what they were designed to do.
I want that for myself again, I want that for you. I can see it for us both, a life of creativity restored.
With this newsletter, I hope to create a quiet space to help you tune out the noise of the internet, inspire you to share your brand story through powerful imagery, and encourage you with stories from other creatives.
Your inbox is a sacred space, and I want my words to be sage, inviting, and helpful.
In the meantime, please help yourself to the little parcel of photographs that you'll receive after signing up. If you plan on using them, would you be a dear and let me know? It's not required, but in order to keep providing free imagery, I'd love feedback on how you plan to use it and what you hope to see from me in the future.
Your thoughtful photographer,
quiet champion, and loyal friend,