Slow Roll Sessions

Slow Roll Beach Sessions happen in Chesapeake Beach, either on Brownie's Beach, or in my overgrown back yard that serves as a great neutral backdrop, which is where these photos were taken.

In either case, I will spend time being with your family, watching, listening, feeling. And I will mindfully and intentionally shoot one roll of 35mm film. Just one roll. 36 exposures. And a few weeks later, I'll send you the edited digital scans via an online gallery, just like I always have. I can guarantee 10 images. These sessions are about letting us all be present, rooted in time. Generally, they won't take very long, but they will capture something honest and powerful. They won't have the same breadth of vision as the full sessions, but they will be a great way for us to continue to work together.


(available immediately)

Time: around 30 minutes

Location: Chesapeake Beach

Product: 10 High-resolution digital files with printing/sharing/downloading rights

Price: $290

***ADD-ON: Add a second roll of film (an additional 10 images) for $135

gone to california

In June, Tom and I went to California. He won an award at work so they were sending us to Laguna Beach.

We headed out early to check out the desert.

And we brought Townes because when you’re used to toting five kids around, one infant feels like nothing.

There was a live I imagined that would be full of travel. Instead, I ended up with a life full of kids.

I’ve got no regrets.

But it sure was fun to do some exploring.

I packed tons of film but accidentally grabbed the digital camera, not the analog. And because I love film with all my heart, we ended up in a super Walmart in Yucca Valley on the hunt for a disposal film camera.

We loved the strangeness of Joshua Tree, cringed at the hippness of the Ace Hotel in Palm Springs, and slightly feared the cold, rough Pacific.

studying my teacher

He is new here.

Or so they say.

But sometimes I look at him and I think he is



He has been here.

He is much older than I.

But old

or new.

It doesn’t much matter.

I know he has something to teach me.

So I study the dents of his knuckles.

I study the rolls of his neck.

I breathe him in deep.

Lightly brush my hand across the tufts of his hair.

Listen to his shallow breathes.

Listen for his deep sighs.

Waiting for his lessons.

everything changes: in-home newborn session in Baltimore

Everything changes. And it’s mostly great.

The mornings take on a new importance. And days without plans feel thick with love and possibility, and days with plans feel like joyful respite from the boredom that sometimes creeps in. The boredom you never expected and try to ignore.

Most days you wake wake up hopeful. Tired. Yes. But hopeful too.

Everything is different. The coffee too.

Maybe because it’s colder now by the time you get to finish it.

You feel things deeper.

You get scared.

Your anxieties rear their ugly heads.

But you feel happiness in a way you never knew you could. A deep happiness that roots somewhere in what you think might be your DNA.

Nothing is the same.

It doesn’t need to be.