Sometimes they do not wish to play in the light.  Instead, they curl up like cats on the couch and beg me to let them watch Speed Racers circa 1965.  Or they nestle into bed with a pile of books and read to each other.  Other times they wish me to stay far away so they can do sneaky things like jump off the bed frame onto the mattress or have a pillow fight.

These are some of my favorite times to photograph them, even when they do the sneaky things.  My camera in hand, I watch from behind the lens quietly, respectfully.  I want them to barely notice me so that I can capture these everyday moments exactly as they appear for this is our real life, the moments I want to remember most.

Capturing milestones, birthdays, holidays, special events, is always fun, but documenting the small moments, the quiet moments which is how I spend the majority of my days with Theo and Sully is what I want to look back on years from now.   Something in my mama-heart tells me that when their voices have lost that soft, dripping sweetness and the living room rug always scattered with toys has returned to clear and free of clutter, it will be these photographs I will treasure most.

Is there a time of day at your house when the sun kisses a spot favored by your little one?  Have you captured him there?  If not, I encourage you to get your camera out.   That “cheese” photo taken next to the Easter bunny will be adorable, no doubt, but from one mama to another, I think capturing the way your child’s eyes sparkle while playing with a favorite toy, or capturing his little fingers tightly curled around his green blankie, or that one curl that falls just so will be the memories you will cherish most.  I think about this a lot, knowing how quickly moments come and go.  Someday, I will look back at these images thin and floating like fine cotton sheets hanging on a clothesline, and I will find that swath of sunlight, still.

Katie Neuman Photography  ***  Last year I took my love for photography and passion for clicking Theo and Sully’s everyday moments and began documenting these treasured bits for others.   Needless to say, I fell in love.  Currently I am following my passion and pursuing documentary photography as my main work.

The post Documenting Everyday Moments appeared first on Denver Mama.

The snow has been falling for two straight days.  On this particular day we set off for a sledding adventure.  Each new step forged over prairie, out through the vast unknown.  I know this field well, or at least I thought I did.  I’ve been exploring it for three years now.

But like a good student, I’ve always followed the rules, stayed on footpaths, gone where I’m told and where obvious others before me have gone.  I don’t dare break these guidelines because I know all too well that if I leave the path and follow the steps my eyes would like me to take, unexpected snakes dwell like strict teachers waiting with rulers.  Plus, my Littles are usually in tow and I feel it is my job as their guide to keep them respectfully on the path.

Today, though, the Littles are far ahead on the path with their dad.  I stay back, linger, until I am momentarily forgotten.  It is not out of disrespect to the small grasses and baby plants and slivers of new pines that I stray from the safety of the rules which are really in place for protection, not to control one’s adventure.  No, I do not wish to cause harm.  But the snow has fallen and covered our prairie, blanketed it enough to tease me into the unknown.  I know I must go.   Solidifying my choice, the wind has brought on it a message which I can hear as a whisper in my ear, “Leave the path, walk this way.”  I accept the invitation, knowing snakes don’t live under a frozen canvas of snow.  I go, moving forward, each foot sinking down low, plunging through the crunchy layers of ice.

Above, snowflakes gently swirl to the ground like a sprinkling of fine sugar.  I can hardly believe it, but I don’t wish to photograph every beautiful thing I see.  No, instead I still myself and settle into a search, and then my gaze begins to settle as well.   Brown circles, perfect, hollow, dot a delicate branch.  I do not know what kind of plant it is or why I don’t recall having ever noticed it before.  “Ellipses”, comes to mind.  I quickly set up my camera for the shot.  After I have captured this simple plant three ways complex thoughts begin to flood my mind.  So many sentences in my life right now ending in …

Still aware of having broken the rules, I quickly say a blessing because this moment has awarded me an answer.  Simply, “Thank You”,  and then, like a fox, I run, leaping out of the snow, back to the path, back to my family.  My creative spirit and enlightenment seeking soul has been sated, fed for another day.

To see more of my collection of nature inspired photography from my winter walks, I invite you to visit my Flickr gallery: Winter Wonder.

The post Seeking Nourishment appeared first on Denver Mama.

A candle is burning in the kitchen, the smell of winter and fire and woods wafting toward me and wrapping me in a soft embrace.  My little ones are only a few feet away, building pirate ships and get-away boats out of Legos on the rug, the fireplace aglow.  I’ve made a latte, the sound of Norah Jones’ voice moving through the room.  I create this scene almost daily, our afternoon ritual during the change of season.  I sit, ready to write in this space – something, anything.  But nothing comes.  I wait a little longer.  Now my shoulders feel less soft and embraced, my neck beginning to get tense.  Frustrated, I delete my start, stare at a blank screen and ultimately decide to move along to something else.

I do wonder if other mamas struggle like I do?  Something tells me the answer is yes, that I am not alone.  I do wonder sometimes how to do it all – be that mama who can create and deliver while balancing the tasks of parenting, and more importantly, how to do it all in a way that leaves me feeling like I contributed quality and not merely quantity.

For the record, I do not have writer’s block.  What I have right now is a need for quiet and contemplation.  Like the autumnal season itself,  we are busy in our home this time of year gathering, readying, preparing to make peace with the darkness that lies ahead, and carving out time to honor and celebrate the holidays.  Inside, I feel merriment and quiet change, equally.  In this place, my thoughts are still, gaining strength, and I am gathering.  Ideas move through me these days like blazing leaves flowing down a soft, trickling stream.  And then these ideas simply get stuck on a branch or a rock.  And now there is a new shape, a new form, another story.  Instead of fighting this voice in my head that says, “Yet you still must produce” , I choose not to fight.  I simply surrender.

Amidst the change of season, I could also mention the constant distractions.  For example, I’ve walked away from the computer three times already since starting this post to mediate the sharing of two tiny white windows and six thumbnail sized tires, creamy paws grabbing while soft gravelly voices declare, “No Feo.  I need dat for mine house!”, or, “Sully, those tires are part of my landing gear”.   So I’ve resolved a problem, restored peace, and I’ve also wiped out that profound thought I was just going to share with you.  Alas.

Where am I going with all of this?  Well, amidst it all I’ve been bathing myself in the solitude of these past weeks, thinking something will emerge.  I can already feel it trying to wriggle its way out.   As the leaves fade and monochrome begins to surrounds us,  I suspect a layer of quiet in my soul will remain.  But I also feel a strengthening in the hollows of my bones from all of this quiet contemplation.  And it is here that I fill up on fuel to propel my life – our life forward.  Something deeply has changed and I am looking forward to greeting that change and telling you all about it.  For now though, I think I’ll put my feet up and read a magazine while I watch my little ones create.  One inspiration at a time.

The post Change of Season – Autumn’s Break {Ho Hum} appeared first on Denver Mama.

We are in a field.  Fresh off a real tractor, actually.  The Littles run freely; the first spotting of fireflies popping in the thick uncut field nearby.  Corn grows.  Watermelon juice slips down tiny hands.  Someone lit a smoke-bomb and the Littles now run and laugh so hard I think they may just fall down.  I slip away, back to the field where I spotted something on the tractor ride I wanted to photograph, just me alone, closely.  I crouch down in the thick grass, cussing the mosquitoes that are eating me alive.  Adjusting my settings, I click and capture.  I peek up to see my little ones in the distant meadow, clearly not missing me.  Even though the mosquitoes are still trying to drain every last drop I stay to watch the fireflies now exploding in light all around me.   The bursting of light makes me think of dreams and promises twirling around in the illuminated night sky.

We are at a pond.  My oldest little is fishing for the first time.  My baby little is rolling the mesh tube full of bait crickets in his tiny, grubby fingers.  The rickety dock is crowded the way the tube of crickets is, only with family – aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmas.   There is laughter and a lightness that comes along with the simple act of pond fishing.   A moment later I hear cheering and squealing and watch pure joy explode right before me, which is the moment when your child catches his first fish, and has his whole family there to bear witness.  As dusk descends, we celebrate, and then retire to the house for the smallest, sweetest, plumpest wild blueberries made into a pie for the taking.

I am the keeper of our family’s stories.  Like running freely, catching fireflies in a jar, so I catch the details of our life - the little details that I work like ingredients until they are all folded together into one ambrosial dish.   I greet this task with passion, zest and gratitude for it is in the small things, the details, that the gift of life exsists.

The post Details appeared first on Denver Mama.

As far back as my earliest memories I recall telling stories.  And more importantly, I have always loved to listen to a story.  I can stare at a single photograph, eyeing my way through layers and layers of texture, the exquisite detail flowing like a clear stream, and feel the same awe I feel when reading something that moves me.  I have influences that drive me to want to be a better writer, a better photographer, for sure.  Inspiration is abundant.  But it is the simple act of telling a story – in conversation, writing it out, or capturing it behind the lens - that I am most smitten with.

These days, with two littles, I do not get to sit in quiet solitude very often to write something deep and moving, much less eloquent and fine.  And that’s okay.  It is also why I’m pretty sure I have fallen so in love with taking pictures.  Behind the lens I can move quickly with my little ones in sight.  I can slow down on a walk and manage to freeze a dandelion in the frame, quickly moving my fingers on buttons and dials to capture the simple beauty.  I click, and then I run, to catch back up with my ducklings.  I sit near them in the grass while they play.  They schlep buckets of dirt and water.  I watch and capture their movement, the way their eyes squint just so in the sunlight.  In those moments the need to nourish my soul with creativity is filled.  At night, when I am finally alone, I watch closely as the pictures I’ve taken spring to life on my computer screen, and I sit in stillness and solitude to read them.  Each expression, each tender fold of skin, cloud, plant, flower and tree arrives, and in an instant I feel the gentle flutter of buttery leaves dancing softly in my soul.  A story has been told.

One of my very favorite stories to capture behind the lens right now is the sticky sweet love going on between little brother and big brother.  Each day, at some point if not many, I will find my two ducks huddled together, big brother gabbing some kind of sassy dialogue while little brother swoons, drunk on his every word.  Or sometimes it switches around and little brother walks up and takes big brother’s hand leading him to a pile of books where the littles trade up huddling for cuddling and comfort – a bond that is uniquely theirs.  No matter what the scene, I am almost always right there, in the shadows, behind the lens to capture the story.

Here’s a photography as storytelling project to try.  You don’t need a fancy camera or golden light (for even though I dream of everything bathed in that warm, natural light it is not required), you just need to get behind your lens when you spot something or someone in a setting that you want to vividly remember forever.  No posing, no “cheese”-ing, just graceful movement in the shadows to click the scenes you will one day “read” and recall how rich those details were that brought so much light to your life.  It helps to recognize too that not every photograph needs to be just so, it’s more about the moment you’re trying to capture.  Remember that each photo is like a single sentence of dialogue and it’s all these sentences, added together over time, that create the story of an existence.

I’ll share one of my recent photography “stories” today.  These pictures were taken when I was in the kitchen making lunch.  Theo was sitting at our table pouring over Lego manuals.  Sully made his way over and climbed up in a big chair.  I looked up from cutting off crusts to find them melting together like warm chocolate.  The sweetness was so thick that I quietly snuck off to fetch my camera and capture this moment I wanted to never forget.

I would love for you to share a photo “story” with me if you’d like.  Leave a link to your photo(s) in the comments of this post, or if you prefer you can email it to me at mamamayiwrites at gmail dot com.   Because you know how much I love a good story!

The post Storytelling Through Photography appeared first on Denver Mama.

Before getting a snazzy new camera and spending my evenings geeking out over a DSLR manual, I have always loved to take pictures.  Lifestyle Photography is my real passion within that love.

This type of photography, to me, is candid, warm, and most importantly ~ natural.  It is rarely posed.

It’s a particular way a smile curls up more on one side, the way little baby toes remind me of smooth seashells freshly washed up on ocean’s shore, a bubble sitting atop a blade of grass.  It’s the little details caught in the moment that tell a story.   Behind the lens, I am looking for these details, and when I catch them my heart flutters.

If you are a blogger or love scrapbooking and haven’t dabbled much in Lifestyle Photography, it can be really exciting to get behind the lens and capture an image with a new perspective.  These non-posed images can add a layer of visual interest to your blog or scrapbooking pages that might not have been there before.

Another way to think about this type of photo artistry is to shoot photos of things as they exist in your day to day.  For example:  my little ones are in love with Buzz and Woody.  As I was walking through the living room the other day I couldn’t help but notice how lovingly the pair had been placed on the couch.  I grabbed my camera and photographed them.  Daily, I find things placed around the house by my little ones that makes me pause and smile.  I want to remember these little masterpieces as much as I want to remember my little ones sharing a sweet moment together on a park bench in early spring when they were almost four and 19 months old.

I would like to add that in order to take a beautiful photograph you do not need a fancy camera.  Before getting a DSLR, I used a point and shoot.  I learned every feature offered and maximized every ounce of potential it had ~ and it had a lot.   If you still have the manual that came with your camera, get it back out.  You might be surprised at what it can do that you didn’t already figure out on your own.

Now I’m off to continue reading that new manual of mine.  The next time you get your camera out perhaps you’ll photograph the equivalent of Buzz and Woody at your house, or maybe that crazy pile of laundry that never goes away, or a powder blue sky, a favorite smile,  precious baby hands touching grass for the very first time.  The more you practice looking behind the lens with a different perspective, the more you will develop your photography style.  Try it.  I dare you!

I  invite you to visit my blog Mama May I to view more of this photography that I like to call warm, real, natural.

The post Fresh Photography appeared first on Denver Mama.

Time is still available in my world of mamahood, but it comes with more urgency now.  I have aquired this instinct, a mother’s instinct, and with it comes a sense of urgency to capture a look, the folds of skin on the tiniest hands and feet, the sparkle in their eyes, the exact way he sat in the park that day when the tree above him was kissing the sky.

We went to the park the other day.  There was a certain quietness all around us.  The bare branches on the trees swayed ever so gently.  The geese sat soaking in the sun.  This day, like most days now, begs me to find the stillness in my life.  Mamahood has taught me to loosen my grip a little, to pay a whole lot of attention, to find beauty in the small things that happen every day.  I was aware of these things before Theo and Sullivan came into my life, just not as urgently.

My camera has become my coveted tool.  Behind the lens I am whole.  The moments that make up my life now have taught me what a beautiful photograph is.

As we walked home from the park, I looked up at the sky.   The clouds were captivating.  I stopped pushing the stroller and got my camera back out.  Theo exclaimed, “Another one, mama?”

“Yes, Theo.  Just one more.”

Because I don’t ever want to forget what this beautiful February day felt like.  Or how the clouds looked like a giant lobster in a perfectly blue ocean.

The post Just One More appeared first on Denver Mama.