Aubrey.

... and the magic of northern facing window light.

My Pops.

My Pops, in his front yard, last summer, right before a Missouri storm.  My Pops, the landscaper, photo taker (most frequently of moss), tree farmer.  Belly-laugh-til-he-cries-er, funny maker, music lover, socializer, early riser, hard worker, chef.  Coffee mornings, Beer evenings.  Spice concocter and bottler and eater; Spicy tongue.  Story teller.  Train hopper.  Hitchhiker.  River Boater.  Road Tripper.  Back road taker.  Two-Fingers-Lifting-Off-The-Steering-Wheel Waver on a Rural Road.  My Pops: World's Best "Crappa".  Bonfire extraordinaire, history lover, geography encyclopedia, arborist, plant master.  Weather Watcher.  Talk Radio.  Happy Hour.  Heartland.  Still Laughing.  Making everyone else laugh.  Pulling out the paisley hanky.  Laughing some more. 

That there's my Pops.

The Sweetest Pair You Ever Saw.

Two of my favorite people, who happen to also be each other's favorite people, came to visit from Missouri a couple weeks ago, and I got to spend the weekend staring the beauty-of-humanity right smack dab in the kissy face.  Anyone who's ever met Danielle & Mike know what I'm talking about.  These two are as soul-matey as soul-mates come, and after nearly fifteen-years strong, the two of them together still equal more than the sum of their already fantastic boy and girl parts.  I swear that the love they shower on each other makes the world a happier place.  It does mine, anyway.  Awww.

Hilary.

Model: Hilary Hanson

Brigitte and Her Brightness.

Model: Brigitte Madera

Alison and the Good Light.

Model: Alison Nguyen

My Mother's Daughter.

"Mother and Child" (Gennie Pfannenstiel). A Self-Portrait by Mom, shortly after I was born.

I'm very fortunate to have a creative, artistically-driven, mother.  She's constantly working on a handful of projects in various stages of completion, moving from couch to table and back, clipping articles of inspiration, writing, gluing shards of glass to newspaper to discarded wood, making sense of the world by gathering/touching/redesigning her way through it... all the while making it more beautiful as she goes.

I can only hope to be more like her, while probably already embodying more of her qualities than I'll ever realize.  Occasionally I'll catch a glimpse of our likeness:  Our same gummy smiles, our reserved but rapt body language in a crowded room, or a shared attention to a transitory, life-affirming moment in time.

For some reason, it took me a while to notice the similiarity between these two observations on new parenthood.  My mom's version (left) has been hanging in our living room my whole life, so it must have been deep in my awareness somewhere as I shot my own interpretation decades later of my good friend, Eric (below).  Both, I like to think, illustrating a cross between inexplicable bewilderment and pride.  

A picture I made of new dad Eric a few days after his son's birth.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!  Thanks for being a continual source of inspiration.  (And don't worry Dad, Father's Day is coming soon!)

Love, Elise

Grandma and the Misses.

I recently had the too-infrequent pleasure of visiting my Grandma in California.  A few minutes before I was due to leave, my Grandma sat down in a pool of light on her floral couch, so I knew I had to try for a portrait.  And try I did.  Again and again, and then again some more, and, well, some more even after that.  And though I still don't think I quite nailed what I was going for (this time), my Grandma sure did get a kick out of my many attempts. 

The bright side of the misses: Now when I look at these pics, I can still hear Grandma laughing at me. 

Baby Burritos and New Years.

Baby Dieter recently turned a year old.  I took these pictures when he was just three days into making sense of this world, and my incredible friends Mari and Eric - freshly catapulted into their strange new lives as parents - were already expert baby burrito wrappers.  Here's to another year of figuring it out as we go.  Happy 2012, all!  

Here We Go.

Welcome to my induction into the publicwebosphere.  I feel naked already.  But I need to dig out from under tens of drives and multiple thousands of images, and I'm hoping to use this space to help organize some of my work into eventual projects, to inspire and track inspiration, and to give a home to orphan one-offs that might otherwise never see the light of day.  Like this self-portrait I took a few days ago.  I personally find self-portraiture just about as awkward as talking about one's self in the third person.  But sometimes awkward can be nice.  Like a shy boy who gives you his comic book and asks for your number.  Worth a shot.