The Queen of Chaos

Neil affectionately calls me the Queen of Chaos. My brain does not always work in a straight line. It is more of a zig-zaggy, jump here, then leap there, kind of process. It can be very annoying, particularly to my dear husband and particularly when we are photographing together. Here is how it goes: we are at a wedding and in the middle of it the light bulb goes on. I have an idea! The problem is that I can’t really explain my idea to him in any way that makes any sense to him in 20 seconds or less. So, instead I splurt out some chain of consciousness thing, he looks confused and I just charge ahead with my idea.

This is how my brain works. It is like I have this pile if index cards laying around in the back of my brain with snip-its of ideas scribbled on them. I start shuffling them around and throwing aside the ones that don’t fit the current situation. I grab an idea that I have been wanting to try, I see a spot where the light will work and I go for it. This is when I am at my most creative and Neil understands that it is best to just let me go.

Watching me work with a toddler is probably when it is most evident. I have an idea that I start the session with but after that it is usually very free form. I see what the kiddo is responding to and sometimes it has nothing to do with the idea I had in mind to begin with. So the first prop gets thrown to the side and another one brought out. Somewhere in there little Joey gets annoyed and starts crying. Have no fear, out come the bubbles and the tears stop and the giggles start while I figure out what the next plan of action is. And so it goes.


Now, if you are not in the room, what you might hear is thumps and bangs and screaming children and it doesn’t sound like there could possibly be beautiful photography happening. Sometimes, even the parents who are right there can only focus on the fact that Suzie cried and didn’t do what Miriam asked. But I know about the tiny slices of time when she looked over her shoulder at me with her big eyes and the whole world stopped. It is that little slice of time that I live for, held forever in the photographic image in my camera.