[life lesson no. 1] | newburyport ma

In a small moment

Just a little lie

When she wasn't looking

It just slipped on by {c. simon}

Did I know it was wrong? I don’t think so. Not in the sense that I would soon learn.  But I wanted it. It had to be mine. It didn’t catch my eye immediately upon entering, but when it did, I was locked and focused like a well-trained fighter pilot. I did the right thing at first, and asked for it. Denied. I pleaded. Denied again. I begged. A flat out no. I was crushed. Why couldn’t  it be mine? I was a good person. I didn’t ask for much! I was sitting in the passenger seat of the car. She asked me what was in my hand and I showed her. She asked me why I took it and I told her quite simply because I wanted it. I really didn’t know any better. I was 5. I remember like it happened yesterday.

It was a Mickey Mouse watch. It had to be mine. My mother said no and I took it anyway – I didn’t even put it in my pocket I just kept it in my hand.  But my first life lesson had begun. Mom of course marched me back into the toy store and made me return it along with an apology. I was scared.  I didn’t quite get the gist that I had just stolen something, that it was wrong.  I was so close to coveting the object of my affection. I mean come on it was a Mickey Mouse watch people!  It was perfect, with a black plastic strap. Seriously it was a beauty.  How was I to know it couldn’t be mine.  Oh how I cried.

Annie and I stopped into our local market to grab a few items. Getting her back in the car I noticed she kept her hand in her pocket. I asked her what was in her hand – she said nothing. Then it clicked. I had an immediate flashback to that day all those years ago. I asked her if she took something from the store and she said no. I asked to see her tongue. (We always catch her in a fib by telling her that her tongue would be black if she didn’t tell the truth – works every time – not that my girl is a liar but still….) She quickly stuck it out and then back in her mouth. Nabbed!  Annie what is in your pocket?! Of all things, a piece of Bazooka gum. Begin Life Lesson No. 1 for Annie. I marched her back into the store, made her return it and apologize. She burst into tears. Promised me she would never ever do it again. Oh the horror. Crying in the car as I drove away – seeing her little hands covering her face in my rear view mirror. Promising.  Never.  Again.  Tough  love indeed.

My life has come full circle – me and my Mickey Mouse watch and she with her Bazooka gum. (apprently I had set my sights higher) I immediately thought of my own Mom – did she feel the same way I did seeing her child cry. Wanting to comfort but knowing the lesson had to be learned.  I know Annie didn’t mean any harm – she is a beautiful soul and the kindest person I know. She just wanted a piece of gum like I wanted a watch. I told her she did the right thing returning that gum and saying she was sorry. I was proud of her for doing that.  As much as it hurts she’s learned her lesson. We both have. Life is funny. Oh the joys of parenthood.  xo m.

{annie's piggy bank - plenty of bazooka cash - nana watching over my girl in the background. always}

[sweetness] | newburyport ma

Little Mr. Roo

The moon shines silver over you

No one knows you like I do

And little Mr. Roo

Reaching for the moon

Don't grow up too fast

Too soon {c. simon}

Kellan August

7.5 Month Session

Sweetness.

[that bed. that room] | newburyport, ma

I tiptoe past the master bedroom where

My mother reads her magazines

I hear her call sweet dreams

But I forget how to dream {c. simon}

Climbing up the stairs I’d see her reading a book with a hot cup of tea by her side. I would settle down next to her for a chat. I can’t remember what it was we chatted about. If I was in  high school it would have been about some boy I had a crush on or if she made a decision about letting me drive her car to a friend’s house. Or clothes, always about clothes. If I was younger it would have been about my ballet class or my piano lessons or Little House on the Prairie. If I was visiting from Boston it would have been about my job, my boss, my house, being single.  I was reminded of these moments recently and I wish I had a photograph of us together like that.  I would lay across her bed while she searched for something to wear to go out to dinner with Dad.  I’d watch her cull outfits together for the next trip they were to take, pulling perfectly folded clothes from very organized drawers.

Everything seemed centered around that big bed. Dad would leave for work and I would climb in. Dad would be on a business trip and I would climb in. I’m sure my sisters feel the same way. Opening a Christmas stocking on that bed.  I think that was my last Christmas at home. My brother home from the hospital after a pretty bad accident - thankfully alright - we both got to be in that bed. What were we 4 and 6 - making roads for his hot wheels out of the curves in the blankets. In high school when both my parents traveled I slept in their bed – I’m sure my siblings have a similar memory. Was there a time that we fought over that bed? Probably. There was a tv and a bathroom - it was the perfect hotel room. There was something safe and special about that bed, that room.

After months of working so hard after her stroke, Mom came home to that bed. What a great day  that was having her back to her nest. I remember a particular Saturday visiting from Boston, I climbed into bed next to her – we were watching the Kentucky Derby I think. I was talking away about the horses. She couldn’t talk after her stroke, but somehow we managed to communicate. I lay there by her side holding her hand. Just holding  it. Wanting so much to make her well. I wondered what she was thinking, what was going on inside her. I would search her eyes for answers. She touched my cheek. It’s a precious memory I have. I want to be with her again, in that room, on that bed. Oh what I wouldn’t give. Bringing Annie home to Connecticut for the first time, as an infant, was the most bittersweet moment. Mom was gone. But her bed was not. All I wanted to do was put my head on her pillow with my newborn by my side and remember. All the time spent there. All the moments. All the chatting. All the laughter. Fleeting bits of memories flooding my brain. Floating in the air waiting to be caught.

The bed. The room. My beautiful mom. Gone.

I remembered this the other day when Annie and I were hanging out on my bed. She loves to jump on it of course. She loves to sit on the top of the head board. She’s queen of the world. She’s queen of my world. I was staring at her thinking that her eyebrows are shaped like my mom’s – I asked her to come lay down next to me. Head to head – nose to nose. I grabbed my camera. Because I don’t want to forget. I don’t want Annie to forget. Just being. Just talking. Feeling safe and loved and cherished.

[the little beauty. stav] | boston ma

babies are such a nice way to start people. {d. herold}

ten weeks old. precious and sweet. she was wide awake the entire time except perhaps for a 10 minute power nap. amazingly focused on the camera lens. a prelude to stav. xo

{this sweet outfit was worn by her mom when she came home from the hospital. i love tradition.}

[for japan with love]

"what does not destroy me, makes me stronger." friedrich nietzsche

people helping people. give what you can give. pray the way you pray. count your lucky stars. share your lucky stars.

 bluelime photography is joining the blogger world to remember the people of japan.

for japan with love. and hope. and strength. xo
click here to donate

[the middle of passion] | newburyport ma

sometimes i need to remind myself to be true to me. to remember why i love to have a camera in my hand. to not be influenced by others. to second guess my thought process. my own vision. to take the encouraging words i have for others and turn them on myself. to keep believing. to keep positive. to keep remembering. i get butterflies in my stomach when that shutter closes. i love that. i know i am in the middle of my passion. i look forward to bringing it to the next level. whatever that may be. wherever that may lead. i am a willing passenger. there's beauty in that.
a stack of design books. a  new magazine. a pot of tea. my little girl. my camera. memories of my mom. the sound of rain on the roof. the smell of the ocean. carly simon singing in the background. a pair of jeans that really fit. a smile. a giggle. a good cry. and an open heart. and love. lots and lots of love.

once upon a time a girl prayed for true love.

her prayer was answered. she learned to love herself. 

{#30. m. duval}

annie v. | newburyport ma

And then she leaped into a mountainous and unexplored region of her heart. #115  m. duval

just when i think i couldn't possibly love this child anymore. she does something. it could be a look or the way she laughs or just being her heartful self and i am sent over the moon again. she has a way of digging deeper inside my soul. i find i stare at her all the time - just watching -  in total awe. i swear she is growing right in front of me. her legs are getting longer her hair is getting longer her eyes sparkle. she is reading now. i find her tucked in a corner somewhere with a stack of books by her side reading out loud. she reads to her baby dolls, to her stuffed animals, to anything and anyone who will listen. i am mesmerized. she's mine?! really?!! i get to claim her as my own!! how did i get so lucky. the stars aligned the night that she came through (to snag a line from boz scaggs). all else could fail, all else has failed -  but she is the constant. and i am constantly amazed. forever delighted. and so proud. so very very proud of this delightful creature. annie viola. xo