I don’t know, is it safe to say my wife stalks women? Ogles them? Has thoughts of running her hands through their hair? Is this beginning to sound like one of those letters to the forum in a dirty mag from 80’s/90’s? Will Rachel (wife/makeup artist/hairstylist/wardrobe coordinator/photo assistant/general badass) and Mary (the beautiful young lady gracing this post above and below) appreciate the opening lead-in down Penthouse forum lane? Probably not, but I don’t think either would be surprised…
This week we open with a little roof exploration, edifice details, and a little stage time. And bees, lots of bees. And we close out with a portrait session with the lovely Lindsay, who got to show off another side from the last we shot her. This time we added the men's room as a location. That's right, I know where to take the ladies for a photoshoot.
In mid 2013 the opportunity to photograph in The Miller Theater presented itself. A friend/mentor of mine had access and wanted to know if I would want to take a look. Not really knowing anything about the building or it's history, I said sure and we met a few days later downtown. For that meeting, I brought nothing but myself, no camera. Long story short, at the end of that tour I got a key, had access to The Miller anytime I felt like it, and knew I would not enter the dressing rooms downstairs alone for fear of "her." Whether she still haunts it after the remodel...
I sat across from her about a month ago, scrutinizing every inch of her face as she spoke. We were eating an incredible meal: bread warm from the oven, fried green tomatoes, shrimp and grits, pork tenderloin. It was the meal of a lifetime- one that we could never have afforded 15 years ago.
I couldn't believe she was sitting in front of me. I imagined us, walking to and from train stations. I imagined us lying on the ground miserable, holding our stomachs on a Tuesday after prematurely eating most of what we had rationed for Friday.
Six years ago I was very pregnant with our son, and I remember being very surprised by this photo. I remember working all day, and occasionally looking in the mirror. I was proud that I had curled my mistake of a short haircut, proud that I had attempted an accessory or two, and overall relieved that I had very little time left carrying our firstborn. I remember seeing this photo, and becoming overwhelmed by the fact that I still looked like me.
I felt similarly when I saw this image two days ago...
There is something to be said for cowboy boots and tall grass- for flowing dresses, cascading curls, and the sun pouring from behind an old barn. Patrick and I were both born and raised in the South, and we have settled in the marvelous southern city of Augusta, GA. Here there is a sweet country song on everyone's lips, and many to most photo shoots have the either the canal or railway tracks as a background.
Months ago we did a fundraiser for our friends, to help them bring their two youngest children safely home from Africa. Our friend Jessica won that fundraiser, and we finally were able to get our schedules coordinated for a photo session.
Fresh from Italy, Jessica joined us on one of the hundreds of chilliest days here in Augusta, GA. She stood strong as we shivered around her, remaining calm as my own fingers turned blue. Thank you, Jessica, so working so hard to help us capture so many stunning images of your sweetest self. We Biestmans are delighted to call you a friend.
And here we are for part 2 of Melissa and Matt's wedding. As she sits in my salon chair this week for the inevitable post-wedding whack, it will great to reminisce about recent history.
As promised, here is the second installment of Kellie and Will's wedding images. Enjoy!