Sneak Peek: Cole | Three Months

You thought Chloe was cute?! Well, you were totally right. Just before we hopped over to the zoo to capture her three years of adorableness, we spent time cuddling up to her new baby brother, Cole, for his three months of adorableness. With eyes as big and bright as his older sister, and a sweet simple smile, he's bound to steal dozens of hearts. Although, I'm sure he already has.

Sneak Peek: Cole | Three Months

Aliza

Chloe | Three Years

Three-year old Chloe loves animals. I tagged along with Chloe, her mom, and baby brother Cole, as we explored the zoo together. Racing to keep up with her, I hurried to snap shots before her attention wandered to the next exhibit, the next animal, and ultimately to the playground. With her baby-hair curls bouncing as she skipped along in her purple floral dress, she was eager to pose, and even directed the shoot at times saying, "Aliza, let's do a picture here." Chloe would climb up on a fence, sit tall, turn her head and throw a smile my way, her big brown doe eyes sparkling in excitement. I have been lucky enough to photograph Chloe growing up. It's hard to believe how big she is now compared to her 18-month shoot, and is proud to be a big girl and big sister. Baby brother Cole will appear on the blog soon with his three-month old shoot!

Chloe | Three Years

Aliza

Baby Beluga in the Deep Blue....Aquarium Tank

I don't know what it is about this photo, but I just keep staring at it. A baby beluga (cue the Raffi music) followed its mother, swimming through the murkiness of the deep salt water tank at the aquarium. As we watched from the viewing deck, many feet under water, mother and newborn traced circles around the depths of the tank. I couldn't help but wonder if the mother was purposefully teaching her child to swim and glide through the water, or inadvertently demonstrating patterns of boredom in captivity. The circular swim was mesmerizing. Each time their bulbous white bodies darted gracefully (yes, gracefully) past us, I aimed to freeze a moment with my camera, but with the very low light and surprising speed with which they sailed by, the images were nothing but a blur. So, I timed it differently. To get them as they swam towards us. Far enough away. Zoomed in. I love that the moment is so dark. So quiet, almost haunting. Hardly discernible. Just the curve of their bellies-up bodies, a hint of light from above. Just mama and baby, circling their own private ocean.



Aliza

"My Kind of Town, Chicago is..."

We boarded the early crack-o-dawn train, and sat next to passengers on their way to work. Home. Anywhere but here. The red-head in frizzy braids and sweatpants next to us conducted a loud private conversation on her phone. After hearing about her hangover aftermath at her third shift waitressing job due to five too many Red Bull and vodkas the previous evening, I was thankful that I had toasted my own bagel that morning. Newspapers whipped open. Used college textbooks were highlighted. Lipstick was applied. iPhone apps were downloaded. We watched the farm fields and small towns blur past us. And it was no time before we got there. We stepped outside and immediately looked up at the buildings, and the sun streaming through the few cotton ball clouds.

Our bitter rivals in all games athletic, their pride resting on their ketchup-less hotdogs and thick-crusted pizza, chewing gum and wind, gangsters and Oprah. Big buildings. Big airport. Big history. And all that jazz. Chicago. We spent the day 103 floors up, and under the sea before a sleepy, and quiet, ride home on the rails.

Chicago, Illinois
(Willis Tower Skydeck, Shedd Aquarium)

Aliza

Mushroom in the Rain

I had an entirely different post in mind to share today after my hiatus from the blog. But sometimes things don’t always go as planned…in business, in art, in life.

When I was very young, my aunt, uncle, and cousins from Colorado came for a visit.

I was at an age where memories of it now play more like random snapshots of moments, rather than a true overview of what really occurred. The funny thing about childhood memories is that while we regard the details we remember as quirky and by chance, we grow to realize that they contain the most honest essence of whatever it is we are recollecting.

The snapshot in my mind from my Colorado family’s visit has always been this: My older cousin Colette hunkered down next to me on the floor of our living room. Sitting on the green shag carpeting, we huddled in close as she read one of my favorite books to me, “Mushroom in the Rain”; a story about various animals who squeeze underneath a mushroom to take shelter from the pouring rain. The animals continue to wonder how any more of them will be able to fit under the mushroom’s cover, until they discover the mushroom’s magical secret about the rain. I especially coveted this book because it was a library book, which meant it had to be returned, and I’d have to hunt it down again to read it in the near future. The image of sitting close to my cousin, admiring her natural warmth and beauty, sensing the bustle and buzz from the other family members, hearing the crack of the book’s spine, and smelling that library book smell as the book fell open hits me every time I think of Colette.

Last summer, Colette decided to make a trip back to see her family in Wisconsin for our wedding. We were thrilled to hear of her plans and especially more so since she had learned the previous year that she would have to battle breast cancer. News like that makes for longer and tighter hugs, and after not seeing her for years, our rehearsal dinner naturally turned into an all out hug fest! Months of highs and lows had us wondering how she would be feeling around dozens of relatives and a high-energy weekend. Looking beautiful in a black dress she boogied down on the dance floor with us, beating the cancer that night, not physically, but with her spirit, vibrant smile, and positive attitude.

That weekend, she pulled my three sisters and me aside to give us each a gift she had made for us. They were necklaces on which hung charms etched with the messages: “Love life. Live life.”, “Follow your heart.”, “Trust in your dreams.”, and “Be Free.” (see photos below). Despite a cancer that would only continue to grow and challenge her body, these were the messages she wanted to ensure remained with us.

This morning I received the news. Colette passed away yesterday morning. 38 years old. Surrounded by her husband and family, she was finally allowed to…be free.

Even though Colette was the one facing this aggressive disease, she was always one to see the glass half full, to give of her heart, and to demonstrate resilience. In a crazy irrational way, her battle with cancer caused our family to be inspired by her unwavering determination to live life fully, to appreciate every random mental snapshot, and to remember to cling tightly together and to shelter each other to weather the worst storms.

Do you know what happens to mushrooms in the rain? They grow.

They also cause whoever is gathered beneath them to stay close, be thankful, humble, and reflective until the sun shines again.

All photos from our wedding rehearsal dinner July 10, 2009. Pictured are my sisters, me (green dress), and cousin Colette (blue shirt & scarf).
Many thanks to A&A Photography for capturing these images...it goes to the heart of why we take pictures at all.

Love and peace finally...xox

Aliza