Shaun Who?- Nicole Roundy

So, what did you do today?

Nicole Roundy is the first above the knee amputee to compete in snowboarding. She's doing what she was told was impossible. Get used to seeing her name, you're going to be seeing it a lot more in the future.

The Road Home

Happy Birthday Alex!

Happy birthday to one of the greatest nephews ever!

Wedding Workshop

I have a photographer friend who is getting married so of course I asked her, "Don't you want me take your pictures?" When another friend, who actually is a successful wedding photographer, found out I got the honor I comforted her saying, "You can be my second."

To make sure I don't appear totally mentally deficient on my friend's big day, I attended a great workshop this weekend with wedding photographer Davina Fear. Davina was a patient teacher and we were fortunate to have a great couple modeling for us. It was below 40 degrees, overcast, with a nice strong wind and these guys were such troopers. They smiled, they dipped, they kissed, they dipped again, they whispered, and kissed some more. It was a hard day's work. These are a few of my favorite shots.

I love this shot because the bride got these shoes for around two dollars. No wonder they could vacation in St. John's.

The back of her dress was dreamy and the material was so luxuriant. She was pretty sure it was polyester.

They are so in love, it almost made me a little queasy.

Thank you guys for all of you hard work. You were fabulous to work with!

Friends

This is my friend Matt. He's quite articulate and mature for fourteen years old. I wanted to do a portait that reflected those qualities. Let me tell you about his mother and one of my best friends, because by telling you about Kelly, I'm also telling you something about Matt.
If I was stranded in the middle of the Sahara and called for rescue, my husband would laugh before saying anything (it's just something that wouldn't surprise him). Some friends would want to know what I was doing in the middle of the world's biggest wasteland and my family would ask how I got there in the first place. Kelly response would probably be, "So do you want to do this by cargo or caravan?" She's the kind of friend who will always have your back not matter where you're leaning or how far you might fall. At Matt's young age, I can see that same quality already.

Searching for Shaun - World Superpipe Competition

Having a foreign object embedded in your ear can lead to a number of interesting circumstances and the following is one of them. I was up at the World Superpipe competition last weekend and had just finished up a shoot when I met Shadow. Before I start this story, it’s important to note that I know very little about the sport of snowboarding, probably about as much as most people know about applied behavior analysis.

Shadow was a friendly face in a crowd thronging a snow boarder that had just a finished his run off the Superpipe. I actually was waiting for my husband to join me and she was apparently waiting to get a picture of this rider. We chatted and it turns out she was from New Hampshire and was such a fan of snowboarding, she even had a sharpie signature ski coat of the young rider whose mob we seemed to be apart of. Being older in years, when I heard her mention "grandmother" I assumed she was this young man’s grandmother. I thought to myself, "This is one dedicated grandmother". I was thoroughly impressed that she came all this way to watch her grandson ride. And from the reaction of mob we were apart of, he was obviously a local favorite. I offered to take a picture of her with her grandson and we made a tag team effort to get through the swarm that surrounded him. At one point I was even yelling, "Hey this is his grandma, move over!" but our efforts were too late and no match for the frenzy that the youth possessed. He disappeared up the slope for another run and we shrugged and smiled, we had made a good effort.

We continued to talk when my husband arrived and I introduced Shadow to him, "This is Shaun White’s grandmother." I was proud of myself for remembering the rider’s name, I mean there were so many. "Oh no," she replied blushing, "I’m not his grandmother." With my hearing being quite compromised I had misunderstood. She had said that she was like the grandmother of snowboarding because she had being doing it for so long, almost eighteen years in fact. At least I think that’s what she said.

Shadow was actually a librarian from New Hampshire and had been trying to get a picture of Shaun for her students, not herself. When she spoke about her school and her students, her eyes and face became animated in a away that only parent or a dedicated educator’s can. The coat, she told us, that had Shaun White’s signature was going to be auctioned off for the school. She was a huge snowboarding fan and makes sure the library has all the best and recent magazines and books on snowboarding for her students. She came out to Utah specifically for the competition. That’s dedication and passion and in my book, even better than being Shaun White’s grandmother. Later I read that Shaun happened to be one of the biggest stars in sports, a gold medalist in the Olympics, and a gold medalist for the X Games in snowboarding and skateboarding. He dominates the sport of snowboarding, a Tiger Woods or Michael Jordan of sorts, but younger and hipper. So a shout out to all the students at Brewster Academy; if you felt fortunate to have Shadow at the school before you read this story, I hope you feel even more so now.

This is Shaun.

This is Shadow.

This is me trying to get a picture of Shadow with Shaun.

This is as close as I got.

After our efforts.

Not Shaun girls, but very cute and probably more availbale.

Marcel's Top 10 Tips For Being Organized

1) First and foremost you need to care about being organized.

Okay, so I really need work on this one. Any suggestions anyone?

Park City Living

Last weekend we were up in Park City for a shoot and we stopped by after to visit some of our favorite people in the world. Bryan was commenting on living in Park City and the lifestyle they have created for themselves, "Sometimes I just can't believe how great my life is." After a year like this, what snow lover would complain?

Eryn is one on my best models. She just knows how to connect with the camera. The reindeer outfit was her idea. Her sister, Teia, skis double black diamonds. Yeah, living Park City can be rough.

How far is heaven?

How far is heaven? Well, one group of boys wanted to know so badly they crooned those words into an iconic pop song that still reverberates in my mind. The title words are the only ones I can remember and as far as I know, they never answered the question. Our quest for nirvana, is a universal and timeless pursuit that we just can’t seem to figure out. Some religions hope to settle the question, but for as much as I attend church, the whole eternal salvation idea seems somewhat overwhelming. I’m not really sure how it will play out and frankly I don’t think I want to. I mean, I have a hard enough time just making it through the day, having to live another one of my lives, is just not fair. I would be more content for reincarnation, maybe as a less advanced primate, a chimp or even better, how about a lemur?

If the route to heaven through the afterlife seems tricky just try finding it here. Entrenched with consumerism, we do a pretty good job at convincing ourselves that heaven on earth is in some exotic location like a beach on Antigua at sunset or even better at Bloomingdale's where on the clearance clearance rack every item is your perfect size. In fact, I think I’ve just convinced myself. Some of us don’t have the need to travel to far and distant lands like New York City for a slice of utopia, a Saudi supporting SUV or a home which would house fifteen families in Calcutta seems be the divine manifestation we are looking for.

For Jay and Heather, heaven on earth, is simply the end to a five and half year wait. An end that means in Mormon suburbia they won’t be the only childless couple on the block. It’s an end for Heather having to sit through a Mother’s Day church program with a hundred children half singing and half screaming "Mother, I Love You" to all the other women but her and smiling so she doesn’t cry. The end for Jay asking God why every woman in the neighborhood, but his wife, can bear children like a litter of puppies. Their wait climaxed as Heather was taken from Jay's arms and the pool of blood that surrounded her by his fellow EMT's. As she was airlifted away, he could not help but wonder what would become of his life. Endless prayers concluded with a dream that was finally realized with the birth of a beautiful baby girl.

When I went to do this shoot, I felt the bliss and serenity of their celebration envelope me and for a moment I was able to forget that my fridge was empty as usual, my eight year old son had two hours to do a lengthy book report plus twelve pages of make-up work, my hard drive was dead and all my photos were MIA, that our political system appears hopelessly irredeemable, that billions of humans, other than myself, face poverty, hunger, and warfare on a daily basis, and that the purposeful destruction our habitat has become our own ironic damnation (Dante, anyone?).

In the revolution and rotation of the third rock from the sun where billions of lives breathe, there in that home in the suburbs of Salt Lake City, all of the chaos of life faded away and the only thing that mattered was this one human baby and the love of her parents. It’s moments like that give my little mortal brain a glimpse of what heaven might really be like. Who knows, in another a hundred years most lemurs will probably be zoos.

Lunch date

Sometimes life with myself is just too exciting. Take for example my lunch date this afternoon. If this picture doesn't typify my daily routine, I can't imagine another that would.

Girl's Night Out

The cusp of adolescence, when girls are just dipping their toes into the pool of adulthood. Nowhere have I seen my daughter more clearly on that brink than the night we hosted a faux spa retreat for her and her friends for her birthday. This party would have been different at twelve, than it was for the nine and ten year olds that filled my front room. At twelve, they would have taken the experience in stride, chatting to one another, "Oh my gosh, can you believe Britney’s sister is pregnant?" And this certainly wasn't like playing dress up when they were three, because somehow on this night the world of womanhood suddenly became real.

I transformed my home into a luxury salon. There were stations complete with a whirlpool foot bath, pedicure supplies, fruity sprays and lotions, glittery lip gloss, creamy eye shadows, lip and eyeliners, brushes, combs, ponies, and hair product galore all atop matching lavender linen and accenting flowers. I had a project for the girls to decorate flip-flops with flannel provided a buffet of heaps of pizza, soda, gourmet cookies, twisted pretzels, kettle corn, a full veggie tray with dip, and beautiful individual lemon star cakes courtesy of a dear friend.

Although I’m a woman, this self-indulgence is somewhat foreign to me. I've never had a pedicure, don't use nail polish, pick up my clothes of the floor and am lucky if a brush makes it through my hair once a day, but the girls don't know that. "You can have as much as you want, anytime you want.", I tell them with a Martha Stewart smile pointing to the spread of food. "Where are the games?" one girl asks. I smile patently as Martha would, "No games tonight". Games? I’m feeling something more than doubt now that I’m staring into the face of eleven expectant girls. You can only fake so much.

"You can do each other's hair and make up or you can do it yourself " I"m explaining to the girls. "What!?", interrupts one girl, "I never do my hair. I don't even know how to use this!", she cries with indignation holding a can of hair spray. "Um..". I’m looking at the foot bath that needs to be filled, and mentally tick off everything else I need to do: pour the soda, warm the pizza, enforce no double dipping on the lip gloss and eye shadow with the q-tips, make sure no yellow toe nails touch the communal water, keep the dog away from the pizza, answer the torrent of questions that will surely come with the little expertise I have and document the whole night with my camera. I’m looking for a reply, but it’s evading me. A nine year old comes to my rescue. "I'll show you what to do" she says comfortingly taking the hair spray. "This makes you hair firm and this," she says, picking up a bottle of gel and demonstrating the girls, "gives your hair body." She waves her arms for emphasis. There is a collective "Oh." Obviously she has imparted new and important information to the group.

The girls begin tentatively and gain confidence as the night moves along. This woman thing was feeling pretty good. Armed with the tools of transformation, the question then became, Hannah Montana look or kitty look? It was a tough decision, how often do they get full creative license like this? With make up in hand, a few strokes just wasn’t enough for some girls. My own daughter colors her face into a whirl of designs, "A butterfly." She says smiling to me. I smile back, "Remember, tattoos are forever." It just comes out. "What?", she's confused. "Smile!" I take a photo, always a good cover up. "That’s for your lips.", a more knowledgeable girl leans over to tell her. My daughter "ignorantly" has used the pink lip liners for her artwork. That’s my baby. She shrugs and laughs. Another girl doesn't want to do her nails or make-up she tells me somewhat apologetically. I comfort her, "That's okay, I still don't want to do my nails and make-up." We laugh and find other things for her to do.

The night ends with dancing which inevitably turns to jumping, screaming, and piano improv. The girls make sure to take full advantage of someone who has offered to be their personal photographer. "I’m working for you tonight", I tell them. "Okay, take a picture of me doing the splits and everybody covering their mouths being wowed." "Take a picture of me lying down. Okay now take a picture of me lying down with my eyes closed. Now one with me lying down, like I’m sleeping, with my eyes closed with some flowers. Okay, now one with me lying down, with my eyes closed like I’m sleeping, with the flowers and everybody mourning me like I’m dead." It's a huge hit; almost everybody wanted a photo in the funeral pose. I have to explain to a friend later, it wasn't morbid impulse, simply a terribly dramatic one. Remember Ann of Green Gables and the Lady of Shallot?

For me as a parent, it was a night of revelation. The comments alone could have made it into any comedy stand-up routine.

"My parents just want us to stay in the middle-class."

"Are you depressed?", one girl asks leaning in.

"Uh.."

"Oh my gosh, are you suicidal?!!"

What's suicidal?"

One girl to another,

"And then, uhh, blahhhhhhhhhhhh, wow!"

The girls shriek with laughter simultaneously.

It's their own code, adolescence has begun. Childhood has evolved my wee one into a gangling growing girl with independent ideas and thoughts. She’s half-way there, I think, half way to adulthood. How strange I don’t seem quite ready for this. I know the end of childhood is inevitable, but when does it truly end? I see my daughter blossoming physically, intellectually, artistically, emotionally and spiritually, but of course I just want freeze time and have her be mine for just a little longer. But that’s the magic of it all, knowing you can never have these moments again. I see her moving on her own path now and she is content to have me look on, a part of her microcosm, at least for now. That’s why these photos are so precious to me. I can’t have this time ever again, but I can capture it with pictures and keep that magic for another day. My photography somehow makes the endings and beginnings of life just a little easier.