A touch of color & a hint of flare

Change.  Change is beautiful, needed to grow and probably the most terrifying experience one can go through.  Mostly we feel there is little control over the change, but truth is we do have control over the entire experience.  We have control on how we handle each new, unexpected lesson.

I’ve always been a fan of change, I thrived on starting something new.  Made me feel alive & if something major in my life wasn’t a chaotic changing mess, I felt stagnant.  That my time of arrival had come and gone and I had not savored that final moment before life kicked in and everything was set around a routine.

My ability to create change is different now.  I have other people to consider.  I can no longer decide to move to a different city at a whim without major repercussions given the fact I am the breadwinner of my small family.  I’ve accepted this and have taken a bit of comfort in my responsibility, but now and then (more now) I still get a huge bug up my butt for change.  So I change what I can, whether it be my diet, certain aspects of my routine or the color of my hair.

Recently I’ve decided to change my perspective.  I tend to look forward and dwell in the past.  Until recently.  I’ve been blindsided by perspective as I have this great friend who has helped me learn to simply be.  Helped me realize that even though our pasts shape who we are now and our future is definitely going to come, it is who we are now in this moment that makes the difference. By just enjoying what we have here is all we actually need and everything else will fall in its right place.  I always thought I was present, but this friend of mine had truly brought me into right now.  By allowing myself to be, I laugh so much more and enjoy each piece of time that I’m given and I couldn’t be happier.

Oh & I changed the color of my hair too.

The self-portrait beginings

Boston hair

For some reason Boston gave me Clara Bow hair.

The self-portraits beginings

All eyes on me

cinescope eyes, originally uploaded by mehannon.

When you find out that people are talking about you & saying things that aren’t exactly flattering, how do you internally handle that?
I’ve said it before.. I care what people think & say about me, so when I hear that someone is saying mean things regarding me, especially if the actions that are being questioned had zero malice behind them, it slowly eats at me. I become consumed with the thought that I had hurt this person, completely unintentionally & not giving much regard that these people hurt me too. The people that hurt you, do they too struggle with the voices in their head that go over & over on maybe there really was a nicer way for you to say things.

Why do I care so much if they like me or think fondly of me? My guess is they don’t struggle with that worry, so why should I?

It’s taken me years of really hard work, but I’m finally getting to a place where I can say… “it’s not me, it’s them”. But it still hurts.
I can honestly count on one hand the number of times I’ve intentionally hurt someone & all those times it was out of retaliation. For they too wounded my heart something fierce. I fought with only words, but I wanted them to feel the pain that I felt. When I look back at those times (which was many many years ago) being young, insecure and emotionally fragile, I feel guilt. I wish I would’ve been the bigger person.

So now I’ve decided to take solace that most of my actions are done with heart. I never mean to hurt anyone and that should be good enough for me to know & move on. Right?

My date with Elvis Perkins

Have you ever been in love with someone’s music that it felt like they were holding your hand while playing it?  Not that each song was written for you, but creating the lyrics and music in a perfect marriage for your ears, you feel the music so much.. almost as if they are right there with you as you listen.  Listen to the sweet vocals as the carry over acoustic guitars, melodies, harmonies, drums….

Elvis Perkins opened his set (not counting the beautiful acoustic set he played b/c the opening act didn’t show) with the song “How’s Forever Been Baby”, which starts off slow, like a casual walk down by water.  One of my favorite songs from his album Elvis Perkins in Dearland.  The show started off like a kiss and ended with getting to know & impressing all your friends.  It was a brief and beautiful relationship. I can still feel the embrace of the music,  similar to a lingering smell that stains your clothes and hair after a night of hugging and kissing.

I have a very large school girl crush on Elvis Perkins & as he walked through the bar with no one noticing him, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, stretch out a hand or even accidentally bump into him.  I sighed like 14 yr old high school crush standing against my locker.  The show was beautiful, maybe 50-75 people filled the venue (if that).  The whole experience felt personal.

After the show I looked back stage, saw him, waved & he waved us back.  Funny thing about being who I am now and still having school girl crushes on musicians.  They don’t really mesh well anymore.  Before I would’ve been more daring, perhaps encouraged an outing at a bar.  Instead I raised idle chit chat, didn’t tell him how beautiful I think his music is or how it’s moved me to tears at the right moment.  I nervously looked at my phone for the time thinking “shit, my mom is babysitting I should get home”.  I laugh because that’s who I am now, that’s my life.  And when I got home and climbed into bed, Maggie woke up and said “oh I forgot to give you a hug when you got home” and she gently fell back asleep in my arms. I couldn’t think of a better way to end such a wonderful evening.

Name that tune

DSC_0145, originally uploaded by mehannon.

the funniest things that came out of my daughter’s mouth today.

“Mommy do you know the song, Who Let the Dog’s Out?” and proceeded to sing the chorus, barks and all.

Self-portrait project began

Love the one you’re with

I like most women in today’s society am not satisfied with how my body looks.  To even put it so gently is almost like being in denial.  I am obsessed with how my body looks. From every angle, in every article of clothing and my obsession sickens me.  Over the years my body has changed as it has aged.  I’ve gone from being a person who can eat everything I want without a care to eating with much more consideration of what goes into my body.  While the latter is preferable on a scale of healthfulness, but overall it’s because I don’t want to be overweight or more importantly gain more weight than I already have in the past 3 years.  My body has changed, softened, & dimpled.  I am afraid to wear a two piece bathing suit, not because I’m grossly overweight,  in fact I’m in my perfect weight range for my height, but I’m not the body I was 5 years ago.  This bothers me.

Today in a dressing room (don’t even get me started on trying on clothes) I heard my daughter say her belly was fat.  Anyone who knows my child, knows how absolutely tiny, petite and beautiful she is in every way.  This phrase is something she’s learned from me.  Fuck.

As a mother of girl I want everything for her as women that I never had. I want my daughter to have confidence in every area of her life and be completely comfortable with her body.  Actually I want her to love her body, take care of it, treat her body like a precious machine, that deserves good natural food, exercise to be healthy, sunscreen to be safe & appreciation for how it moves without thought.  I have not been a very good example at all in trying to set this up for her.  I squeeze, prod, and examine my body only to sigh in sadness at how my body isn’t what I want it to be and how I am not longer specific size.  Mind you, my body works very well.  I can run, walk, breath, touch my toes, swim and do yoga without a pain, wince or pressure.  I have aches & pains, back issues here & there but overall my body runs well.  I’m very very lucky.

After hearing those words come out of her mouth, it’s time I became a better example.  Suck it up and give it a shot so here it goes.

I love my body.

I love all the moles, the dimples, the paleness, blue veins, small boobs,the short legs.  I love it all!  I love that I have the freedom and control over my body and how it functions.  I’m doing this for myself & my little girl & may she always look in the mirror and smile, instead of frown.

So here it is, my belly.  I’m learning to love it’s shape, details & imperfections.  Slowly, but learning…

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Whoaa here she comes…

For the last hour I’ve had Maneater by Hall & Oats in my head.  So I thought what the hell, I’ll take a few shots that have a woman who kicks men’s butts in love.  Like a Preying Mantis or a black widow.  Ha!  They tilt their heads back as they scoff and laugh at the poor poor pawns of men that have followed them. They have taken their affections, used them and thrown them away like paper towels. Men like their hearts are disposable.

Soooo…. I am neither a Praying Mantis, Black Widow or Maneater for that matter.  Don’t want be, just thought it would be fun to pretend.  I was going pretty stir crazy from cleaning up poop from a sick child ALL DAY.  I haven’t had to change her clothes or wash so many outfits since she was a newborn.

Anyway, let me give you a guide through this very funny (at least to me) shoot.

First off I’m on my floor, which by the way is very clean thanks to a weekend of hard cleaning labor.

This one looked particullary fierce until I noticed the lipstick on my teeth.  That doesn’t say maneater, that says Aunt Ethel

Look closely this elusive creature, you will know her by her distinctive markings… a large black eye booger in the corner of her eye.

Oooh the black & white shot, FANCY!

Then the cat sat down right in front of my face, right in front of the camera.

This is pretty much man eater as I could possibly be.

Where the self-portraits began.

And now for your viewing pleasure….

See I have good memories

DSC_0432, originally uploaded by mehannon.

The other day as Maggie & I were laying on my bed before flying out of town for week, she asks me

“When you were a baby did you live with your mom?”, I said yes. Then she asked “when you were bigger did you live with your mom?”, again I answered yes. Then she said, “when you were…” she motions her hand up and down the length of my body, “now you live with me”. I agree. And then she said “See mommy, I have good memories”.

Memories. I don’t recall much of my childhood. We didn’t have a lot of traditions for holidays, birthdays or for anything really. I always felt like I was missing out.
Do you ever feel like you life is a movie? When I was a kid, I used to think my life was a movie and someone was always watching, so by myself I would bow or look into the “camera” & say something. In some aspects I still feel that way. When things happen I have this thought in the back of my mind that this would be so cool in a book or that would make a great story to tell some day. And sometimes I look into the sun and think I bet this would be such a great photo.

I think the same things about Maggie. Everything I do, in the back of my head is “what kind of memory am I creating for her.” I think as parents it’s our job to make our children feel special. To feel like they’re getting something in life that no one ever has had or ever will. Something that is theirs and theirs alone. I finally figured out the gift… it’s the memories.

My hope is her memory is better than mine.

There are days…

DSC_0426, originally uploaded by mehannon.

When the only thing that helps you feel young & free is dancing around in your underwear.

Underwear shots not provided.

Music selection Pixies, Where is my mind.

Best hotel lighting

Portrait 58, originally uploaded by mehannon.

The hotel Palomar in Atlanta literally has the best soft lighting a hotel bathroom could have. If it was possible to have a certain light follow you around everywhere you went, this would be it.