I have loved photography for so long, but historically have only applied myself to the art sporadically. My journey into motherhood has finally taught me to carve out a little precious space for myself, so I have been working much harder on my hobby these last few months. But sometimes I feel so dejected. It’s so hard to photograph M; she is a blur of motion, and seems to positively loathe the camera. It’s near impossible to get her to look at it, and when she does it’s so fleeting that I rarely capture it in time. I get so few pictures that I really like, sometimes I wonder if I have any talent at all. What’s that saying about all the monkeys and typewriters and the works of Shakespeare? If I take enough pictures, at least some of them are bound to come out good; but it would be luck, not talent, right?

So it was with excitement and also trepidation that I looked forward to the photo shoot I’d scheduled with a pregnant friend this past weekend. Finally – a model who would do what I said and hold still! I could actually place her where the light was good, instead of stalking her and hoping she would pause for the briefest second at just the right time. I could take my time choosing the right exposure, and I could even bracket! And focus – the bane of my existence – I could take all the time in the world to try and get the focus correct. I was nearly giddy with anticipation. But. I also knew there would be no excuses. If these didn’t come out good, I had no one to blame but myself. I was putting the last few months of work and study to the test. Would I pass?

We went first to a small wooded lot near her home. It was so incongruous … a riot of trees and bushes and wilderness plunked into the middle of a suburban tract. There was an amazing fence made of small tree trunks, and two big doors for a gate. And a no trespassing sign. Which we ignored. The gate and fence faced south, and I commented as we approached that we would definitely shoot some fence shots, but only on the street side, as it would be all shadow on the inside. We could do that on the way out. We slipped through the gate, picked our way through the muddy, swampy ground (both in flip flops!), and I started scouting for locations while the blood-thirsty mosquitoes mounted an attack. It was mid-afternoon – not the best time to shoot, but when child care is available, one gets to work.

Chelsea was an absolute dream. She is so beautiful – and even more so when she’s pregnant. She was a trooper for the shoot, standing still for minutes at a time while the mosquitoes dive-bombed her exposed skin; wading through muck to get to just the right spot; twisting her body to catch the elusive sun. I hemmed and hawed, pushed her this way and that, composed and shot, and composed again. Finally I could think of no more places, no more poses, although I always feel like the work is undone, that I’ve left something important out.

We turned to leave, and as we approached the gate, I noticed that one door stood slightly ajar, leaving a tiny crack that was illuminated by the glowing sun. I paused, my mind whirring. I plunked my stuff on the ground and told her to go outside, and then peek back in. I have a vision. I don’t know if I can make it work. But I have a vision.

I am amazed by this photograph for so many reasons, but what I really love is how it symbolizes the step she is about to take. She is going from mama of one to mama of two, just weeks from walking through those big doors, never to return. But look at that glow! She is an ethereal angel, taking that beautiful light with her wherever she goes. She will do fine; I am sure of it.

We returned to her house to take some more pictures, which were sadly interrupted by the onset of a migraine (me). We still got some good shots, and we plan to get together again in the near future to try for some more. Here are a few, and come check out my flickr site to see the rest. I will probably add even more in the coming days, as I’m still not done proofing everything.

As far as I’m concerned, I passed the test.