2020. How can we even encapsulate such a year? Is it possible? That task (read: and almost everything) feels entirely too overwhelming after the year we just had.
Numb and hopeful. Tired and energetic. Fueled and completely exhausted. Empty and full. I am a breathing contradiction.

2020 changed every single one of us in some way or another. For some, they claim it to be the best year of their lives. Many congrats to them. That sounded bitter, but I promise it is not. I am truly thankful this year wasn’t all bad for everyone. For others, and many, this year left us with scars, both external and internal. And scars that will never disappear.

Typically I like to write out my accomplishments or what I spent my year doing on these blog posts. But you can probably guess. I spent the past year mostly at home. During some of it, photographers apparently weren’t allowed to operate (I’m also not sure anyone ever knew the exact rules), so some months were spent doing a whole lot of nothing aside from Netflixing and whatever else anyone does other than watch things on Netflix these days, despite me telling myself I would accomplish some personal photo projects. It was a year of a lot of aloneness in my own personal corner. But it was also the year where I gained the friendship of myself after hating her for a long time. That bit was nice. It was also the year of a major internal overhaul. That bit was nice, too.

We saw national uprisings, our country fight over literally everything, a global pandemic, too much news for it to be legally allowed to be humanly processed, and so much destruction and loss and heartache. It doesn’t feel quite right to talk about anything positive in my life when I know the nearly entirety of the world is suffering (and yet, that also feels like the exact reason to talk about anything good, so perhaps I will write on that soon.). I also know most of us are capable of finding glimmers of joy amidst the waves of crushing grief. I think I determined that those near-impossible moments of pureness and joy were the things that kept my heart ticking overall. It’s like there was a shift in monotony and me singing the blues about everything to me noticing that, while things are hard and scary and unknown, there is always, always bits of magic when I look for them. I started counting anything and everything that brought any sort of smile to my face in the past year and I chalked it up as a gift. Some of the smallest gifts I’ve ever been given, and often fleeting, like rainbows dancing in my dining room or the birds making their homes in the bush outside my neighborhood coffeeshop, but the more I looked, the more bountiful they became. 

I didn’t get engaged or married or buy a house or travel out of the country or really hit any big life milestones this year. Things were slow. And that slowness was needed, to some degree at least. I worked my way out of some dark places. I’m still wondering if 2020 just made me switch out the types of darkness, because, yes, while there was good (and I desperately clung to it), there was also nearly more pain than a lot of people can take. 

In this new year, I recognize that a calendar change won’t flip the switch of “everything sucks” but I do see hope on the horizon. I suppose I always try to do so.
2020 taught me, more than ever, to count the blessings and the gifts I have. The largest ones, like our loved ones, and the smallest ones, like each breath. It is a gift to be here. I hope I never take it for granted again.

Before the pandemic hit in January, I had a couple of dozen of weddings booked or so. I ended the year photographing 9, along with a handful of lifestyle/portrait sessions. 
In a way, this is the most proud of my work I’ve ever been. It is probably also the least perfect it’s ever been. This year was also probably the most out-of-practice I’d ever been too, but I stopped leaning into perfection and started to embrace everything else. 2020 definitely taught me that things can’t be planned out. We should probably stop believing in the idea of perfection or a Grand Plan altogether. But we did it. We made it. And getting to be there for anyone, in any capacity, during this past year is something I will honor forever.

2020 certainly taught us a lot. I’m honestly not sure how my brain has any more storage space.
I think once I process things a bit more, I’m likely to do another blog post on all my thoughts. And then I’ll have to start keeping a journal to process 2021 if what happened at The Capitol is any indicator of what this year holds. *knocks on wood, prays, sends good vibes for 2021 to be much better overall than the effin’ sh*tshow that 2020 was.*

Happiest new year. Please enjoy these most sacred moments of connection and life (or just little moments of beauty) from a very strange and trying year.
In no particular order.

(PS–there are a few shots that were taken in a bathroom where the subjects are nude. Though most everything is covered, this post may be NSFW, depending on where you work.)