20/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."

Che: He can whistle now and so he does, every day.

Poet: Before we leave the house she always needs a hat, some beads and a basket. She fills the basket to the brim; crayons, a doll, finger puppets, blocks, a wooden rabbit...

I've spent the past few weeks searching for a printing company to create my 52 book from 2012. From first glance at their mission statement Artifact Uprising impressed: "...inspired by the disappearing beauty of the tangible / bettered by a community of inspired storytellers / driven by the belief everyone has a story to tell. Tell on."

I've decided to print a book of Che's portraits and one of Poet's, so they each have a photo-journal of their year. I'm also going to print a 104 page book that features both their portraits; a family coffee table book to treasure. When it comes to collating the photos, choosing the cover and waiting for the hard copy to arrive in the mail...well, that's when I feel really grateful for taking a photo-a-week, every week, in 2012 (I'll keep you updated with my progress).

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This week I loved the dishevelled but endearing little cat (and her little brother) over at Blackbird has Spoken / a boy and his balloons - a simple scene so reminiscent of joyous childhood / Roland chasing cats - he is adorable / innocent faces and cosy hand knits, Amelia and Baden, beautiful youth / and a strawberry-stained beauty - Eve and her halo. 

star leaves

The sky really is that blue and it beckons us from the house, even when we're in the midst of a late, buttery breakfast.

The trees are shedding to bare winter branches; they drop star leaves that are collected and gifted at school.

A little elf girl carries a red apple in her hand but she only ever eats half (evidence of said habit can be seen in the second last photo).

the birth of a mother

"The most difficult part of birth is the first year afterwards. It is the year of travail - when the soul of a woman must birth the mother inside her. The emotional labour pains of becoming a mother are far greater than the physical pangs of birth; these are the growing surges of your heart as it pushes out selfishness and fear and makes room for sacrifice and love. It is a private and silent birth of the soul, but it is no less holy than the event of childbirth, perhaps it is even more sacred." - Joy Kusek

I was in my late teens when I witnessed a beautiful conversation between an old man and a young mother. I was behind the counter in the bookshop where I worked when the mother of three young children attempted to balance the trolley, the shopping, a conversation with the cashier and calm her crying baby. The gentleman was trying to walk between the trolley and the bookshelf and the mother turned to him and apologised profusely which is when he held her hand, looked her in the eye and said: "Don't you ever apologise, you have the most important job in the world." She cried. Such powerful validation.

Happy Mother's Day to my own mother and to all mothers. We walk this privileged path together x

19/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."

Che: Pixelated glasses and his shirt on backwards (his choice).

Poet: She will only sit in her pram if she's eating.

I was thinking about my portraits this week and considering what I really wanted to capture throughout the year. Of course I want to photograph their changing, growing faces but I also want to be able to look back and be reminded of stages and quirks. I want to remember the week that I struggled to get Poet to sit in the pram, the week that she walked from the shops to home, a journey that took us well over an hour (it usually takes 20minutes). This portrait of her is representative of a transition - from pram to foot, one more step towards independence.  And Che, on Friday afternoon I asked him if I could take his photograph while he was wearing his new glasses. "Tomorrow morning, ok mum?" And so, on Saturday morning he sat on the chair and we talked as the shutter clicked. It was only when I was editing the photos that I noticed; his pyjama shirt is on backwards. "I like it this way," he says.

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Last week we welcomed a new little person into our neighbourhood...sweet Elke is divine! Over the next few weeks I'll deliver gifts of homemade meals and sweet treats and in return I'll get newborn cuddles (nothing quite like them) / Amber captured Harper and Finn in pure autumn, I adore these vibrant portraits / Honor in the dunes - picturesque / Sleeping Beauty and her gold, sparkly crown, I wonder what she's thinking? / and The Night Bakery captures a still, quiet moment - so very precious. 

scenes in blue

/ watching the water journey from the mountain to the sea. I'm etching a new relationship with him, standing my ground while we hear about what so-and-so is allowed to do/watch/play/eat. It's so easy to give in but with persistence and gentle explanation he understands. I think it will always be challenging to have him question family rhythms and values but I recognise that it's an integral and healthy part of development. Ebb and flow.

/ new pixie boots c/o the horse and a billowy dress c/o Lilya (worn here, too).

/ late afternoon light on the Hawkesbury River Bridge (overlooking beautiful Brooklyn).

/ early morning view over Manly Beach. Daniel and I stayed at The Sebel where I marvelled at the pure white (no grubby fingerprints!) towels, big bath and plush pillows. Staying at a hotel is such a rare treat.

/ there she is, on the edge of light and shadow, sand and water. I can see the spark of the two-year-old; she's rough and tumble with affection, defiant and gorgeous. 

gathering with creatives

photos by tim

Friday was a beautiful affirmation for me; an opportunity to be thankful for community and creativity.

I've always believed the creative process is an organic one and so it was apt that The Creatives workshop unfolded intuitively; it became so much more than the sharing of notes and advice. The conversation was passionate and honest; we talked about photography, words and documenting life - precious, imperfect life. 

I revelled in the opportunity to gather with these gorgeous women, most of whom I had 'known' for years. I taught them in the best way I know how; connecting with them, leading them through gentle yoga poses, encouraging them to be present and grounded. I observed their process; the spark of story ideas, the consideration of new photography techniques and perspectives.

Over lunch the conversation turned to family and then, as we walked to a little Sydney beach, we took notes with our cameras and spoke of integrity, good intentions and simple pleasures.

Nurturing creativity - it's essential and yet, do we do it enough?

A heartfelt thank you to the nine women (and three babies-in-bellies!) who came on Friday. Belinda, Steph, Tara, Anna, Belinda, Jessica, Corrie, Meagan and Ali - it was lovely to meet you.

Tim and I are hosting one more Sydney workshop on July 26th. We have a few places left - email me at jodiclairewilson@yahoo.com.au for details

18/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."

Che: In his own beautiful, light-flared world. 
Poet: She stopped to smell the roses.

Daniel and I spent just over 24 hours away from the kids this week. We drove to the city without the need to negotiate or bribe, we went out to dinner at a lovely restaurant and enjoyed a meal that we didn't have to share, we skipped bathtime, bedtime stories and the inevitable q&a time that comes right before sleep. And we realised that regardless of the perks, we would have preferred to be home, in bed, with two little people snuggled between us. 

Twins Maggie and Elisabeth were born at 26 weeks gestation and after months in NICU they are now home in "the hut" - a cottage in Tasmania that overlooks an abundant garden and vast field. It warms my heart to finally see these strong, brave and beautiful girls' faces amidst all the other portraits / I only know Sunny and Scout from their mama's blog but I'd say these portraits capture their personalities perfectly / Outside - finally! Jane Mabel captures her children as the seasons shift / Dipping her toes in the spring water - little Penny is delightful / and rainbow children - sigh.