Monday, March 26, 2012

Cossa Family

I pulled open my 'to blog' folder on my desktop today. I found these. I loved them. I wanted to post something happy and bright and loving on my blog.

The thing I love about this family? Their home, their walls are plastered with photos of their family. They print their pictures and they love them. I can learn a thing or two from them that is for certain.

View entire session and order prints here.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Maybe this time.

She woke early.

It was abnormal for there to be so much quiet in the morning, why, with three giggly children there is never much time for anything quiet? She relished in the hot shower she got to take alone. Since she had been so sick the past two days she enjoyed that the water helped to revive her spirit and breathe life back into her body. She wiped the fog from the mirror and as she stared into it, she realized she looked more like the death that she had felt the day before. She stared at that woman for quite some time.

As she smoothed moisturizer onto her face, she traced the lines on her forehead that had not been there until the last few months. Somehow they cropped up just like the silver that shimmered in her wet hair.

She grabbed her makeup and began to cover up those lines and the dark circles that were still marking her eyes. When that was done, she turned on the blow dryer and began drying that tangled mass of silver and gold. It was then that it caught her eye.

For nearly ten minutes she sat staring at it.

She bravely questioned herself, “Should she?” It had been nearly a year, on Sunday to be exact. She had tried once or twice before, and each time it felt wrong. Those times it made her cry to the point that she had to take it off, she wasn’t ready, and she had to hide it again. “Why?” She wondered. Today of all days did it cross her mind, did it feel different? She sat there staring at it. Half dressed, damp hair and she reached for it. She shook. Tears burned behind her eyes. “Could she? How would it feel this time?” She held it for a moment, so many memories flooding at once. She tried to remember how happy she was the day she got it, all that it meant, all the hope and dreams it contained. Slowly she slid it over the first knuckle, and then she slipped it off. On it went again, then back off. Somehow it slid past her second knuckle and there she held it along with her breath. For some reason it felt better this time than it had the last. It sparkled as if to say, “Yes. It is the right time.” There it stayed for one entire day. There it sits now, she hopes for it to always stay.