Why I am a photographer
*TRIGGER WARNING* SUICIDE | LOSS | MISCARRIAGE
My biggest brother lost his battle with undiagnosed schizophrenia and depression January 29th, 2002.
I burst into tears, “that was MY brother!” standing in our local gas station counter days after his death. I never expected the newspaper would read, “Westmont man dies on tracks.”
“Just take it!” they insisted as I tried to pay for my gum and heartbreaking keepsake.
My biggest concerns like boyfriend troubles, or I who I was go to be at 20 years old pale in comparison to the devastation that come after the loss of a loved one from suicide.
I had no idea the effect this trauma would have on my life. In my 20’s I was in my truest form. Unapologetic, dream chasing and so free.
God gave me a heart of endurance, perseverance and unending ability to empathize and love.
Truthfully and regretfully, I have cursed those gifts at times. The immense power and intensity of being a “feeler” is exhausting and sometimes downright terrifying.
I have always walked through different forms of art. Songwriting, singing, dance, and poetry. Any creative outlet has always fired up my heart. Many of those pieces fell away as I began my pursuit for my own family. Ever since I was small I’ve dreamt of being a mother. My search for love has been a longer journey than I anticipated.
Turns out, after my brother’s death my heart wasn’t just broken, it was broke open.
It took until close to 30 when I grew closer to God. I felt the presence of Jesus pressing in on me for the first time with too many circumstances that couldn’t just be “coincidence.”
I started a conversation with Him. A simple, “Hello?”
God started showing up! It was intense and undeniable. I started to see, hear and feel the presence of a supernatural love. It’s so hard to describe but impossible to turn away.
I remember one day crying in my apartment living room all alone and just saying, “ok, ok, ok.” I had my first experience with surrendering and it set me free for the first of many times.
So what does any of this have to do with my photography?
The short answer is everything.
We cannot deny the effects trauma has impacted us as humans. However, we always have the will to choose.
Sometimes the will is weak, but it’s always there. For years I have struggled with the winter season. Dimly lit days, and moments that lead up to the time of year we remember the loss. This year I expressed my frustration with the sun not coming out. My friend replied, “if the sun wasn’t out, it would be dark.” ;)
A simple shift in perspective is all it takes to regroup.
For a few years my friends helped me hold concert fundraisers in honor of my brother. We raised thousands for mental health programs as a way to help others which helped my heart heal. I always thought if I couldn’t have saved him maybe I could help someone else.
One day I felt God lay it on my heart that it was never my job to save him or anyone else.
After my son was born I got my first DSLR camera. I started seeing him through my lens and it slowed down what seemed like a fast paced loop I could never get a handle on.
I lost a baby before having my youngest and I experienced grief on a whole new level. I struggled to understand why an “all loving” God allowed these tragedies.
Then I made the choice to accept we don’t get to have all the answers upfront. In the same way I hoarded every photograph of my brother I could find, I was thankful for the few ultrasound pictures of the baby before the loss.
Taking photographs is a privilege. The best moments are happening right now because together is where home is. I don’t care about setting up the perfect background, prop setup or outfits. Our people is were the beauty is.
I thought about my brother and I had to make a choice about how I would grieve this year.
I choose to remember how he always protected me, made me sing Led Zeppelin in the bathroom while he played guitar, and had the best sense of humor. My son is smart like him, and my daughter has eyes like his. This side of heaven is tough some days.
I want my art to be used so memories can savored, and children can have something to look back on and remember what it felt to be loved.
I am a photographer because I know what it’s like to feel you can’t remember it all-and I don’t ever want you to forget.
