Just in time for your 10:04am cutie break! Still one of my favourite winter portraits ever! Love you @lindsaycraigpettem and so thankful for all the moments you’ve invited me into over the years! #mamagram #portraitcollective #photographer #winterfeels 
I keep trying. I keep sitting down to my computer and hoping that words will come to me. But for whatever reason, nothing feels quite “right”. So I just end up walking away and leaving the page blank again. Part of me wants to apologize for my absence. Another part of me knows that I can’t. Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s because I seldom know what day of the week it is anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been 348 days of telling people that I miss them. Maybe it’s just everything. Whatever it is though, I’ve found myself retreating lately. Needing to be alone and quiet. I listen to beautiful music that I stumble upon as I browse through random Spotify playlists. I spend a lot of time outside, walking the same paths over and over again. I read a lot of books late at night. I spend a lot of money on coffee because it’s the only thing that takes me at least 5km from my house. And I just find myself with very little to say about any of it. It’s not sadness. It’s not anxiety. It’s not anger. But it’s something. Grief maybe? Emotional fatigue? Overwhelming uncertainty? The desire to not sound redundant? In some ways, I feel like many of us are having to find ourselves again right now. Figuring out who we are and how we fit in a world that is forcing us to sit with a lot of discomfort. Who are we when everything around us changes? If life were to stay just as it is now…would it be enough? Would we be enough? And if not, what changes do we need to make within ourselves for it to feel like enough? 348 days. Sometimes I can hardly believe what we’ve all been through. Please know this though... I want to be the girl that helps you see that tiny sliver of light breaking through the darkness. But sometimes, I just need to be the girl that doesn’t try to talk you out of whatever feelings you may be going through. Because I’m going through them too. Instead, I can sit here with you wherever you happen to be. And while I may be a bit quieter than usual, I am still here. Sending love from our little corner of cyberspace. 🖤 #pandemiclife #lifeinsquares #writer #journal 
Don’t get too close. It’s dark in here. #portraitofagirl #mood #self #blackandwhite 
Cuddle party!!!!!! #mood #fridayvibes #winterwonderland #photographersofinstagram 
Every now and then, someone will ask me about it. “How are the books doing?” I’ll stop and think about it, then wonder to myself for a bit. The act of receiving a book is very different than the act of releasing one. That moment when you hold it in your hands is the moment when I end and you begin. Ideally, when the last page has been turned, there is a moment when we realize that we’ve been tied to each other all along. I spent eighteen months with Solace before it went out into the world. Curating images and cultivating words. I wasn’t really sure what to expect once I let go. The act of writing it was very different than writing ‘Her Own Wild Winds’. In many ways, my first book had already been written when we decided to release it. Years of writing, twenty minutes at a time. When we chose to move forward with publication, it just needed to be edited, polished, and prepared for the world. It was an immensely exciting time and it was received with that same excitement on the other end. ‘Solace’ was a different beast altogether. Barely a word of it had been written when I signed the publishing contract and I had no idea at the time just how much life was going to happen on those pages. ‘Solace’ was written quietly, intimately, and with a depth of vulnerability that I wasn’t quite expecting. And to be honest, it was received exactly the same way. Quietly, intimately, and with a depth of vulnerability that I wasn’t quite expecting. ’Solace’ seems to connect us in a different way, through a different place in our souls. There is less shouting from rooftops and more whispers from within. A friend of mine once told me that he could feel the difference between the books. He found ‘Her Own Wild Winds’ more healing and reflective while finding ’Solace’ more haunting and poetic. He told me that he even physically held ‘Solace’ a bit differently, feeling that some words needed to be kept closer than others. I think that speaks to how people change. How our lives change. How our hearts change. (continued below...)