Happy Birthday to me + my llc


I am someone who wants to

notice the little things,

make them beautiful,

capture the meaning,

and preserve them so they last.




Every birthday, I like to celebrate not only another year around the sun, but also another year of my business. There is something really special about having the opportunity to look back at where I was a year ago, where Rooted Vision has been, and all of the things that have changed since then. I look forward to and embrace this season of reflection every year.


I am fully aware that not everyone is as sentimental as I am.


I name my vehicles and keep crafts from my kids that are made of basically garbage. I hate to admit how much clothing I keep simply because it reminds me of a place, time or person. I have always been a tour guide to my kids, pointing out what used to be and telling unprompted stories along with the unsolicited information and lessons they never asked for.

We all laugh that the Progressive Insurance commercials are based on me and my inability to just stop talking.

“We can’t help you from becoming your parents…”


This is what I want to pass down, though, so I’m okay with being the butt of the joke, as long as they feel the love.


Each generation gets their own memories, but if we’re lucky enough to hear about the previous generation or experience a little bit of what they did, I believe that is a gift worth celebrating. Not every family gets that. Not every person gets that. The nostalgia I hold in my heart for my own childhood is something I hope I have passed down to my kids. I know that the way my parents loved me is being passed down, even without them being here.


The trips up north to swim at the same places I did as a kid, and camping where my grandparents spent summer days with their siblings, my mom and her cousins. When my mom and my uncle would take us swimming at Camp Dearborn, we would hear all the stories about grilling and swimming and getting ice cream. Now I look at the old photos of them on that beach and realize how cool it is that I can still connect to my mother’s childhood memory from long before I was here.

 

Vintage black and white beach photo of a family with two women, a child, and a baby sitting on a blanket in the sand.

I understand the old images of my family before my time because I listened to the stories behind them.


We spent time with old photographs spread out on the table, the adults reminiscing and telling stories that made them laugh. I asked questions. I cared about why they traveled there and what happened while they were on the adventure. I learned that my parents were pretty cool before they had kids—and that is not what you expect when you are a teenager who is pretty sure that all adults are lame.


I do believe these moments were what inspired my love for photography, nostalgia and community. I got to see images of family and friends together. It helped me understand family dynamics and my family tree , that my aunts and uncles were actually my parent's siblings. I got to see how they looked as kids and where they grew up. I don’t remember exactly what inspired us to get into those photo trunks, but it always brought joy to my mom and dad rummaging through old snapshots and trying to get us to guess who was in the photo. Especially when we didn't realize it was them!


It’s important to process our lives periodically, and I believe looking at old images and seeing how far we’ve come is a kind of therapy that shouldn’t be underestimated. We are constantly growing. Day to day may feel monotonous, but year to year there is growth—and the goal is to have it be positive and productive. Sometimes a trip down memory lane can change your outlook, inspire something new, or simply remind you that this too shall pass.

Young girl with braids in pink dress holds sticks outdoors near lake at golden sunset.
A rustic metal fire ring with burning logs glows warmly at sunset in a grassy campground with autumn trees in background.
Young girl in pink floral dress holding a stick walks toward a sunlit lake at golden hour.
A crackling campfire burns in a metal fire pit with smoke rising, and a colorful folding camp chair visible in the background.
Young girl in pink dress holding a colorful rainbow toy while standing outdoors on green grass.
A marshmallow roasting on a stick over a campfire in a metal fire pit with glowing flames and smoke.
Hersheys milk chocolate bars and wrappers scattered on grass next to a white paper plate outdoors.
A smiling young girl in a pink floral dress roasting a marshmallow over a campfire outdoors.
Young girl in pink dress roasting marshmallows over a fire pit at a glamping campsite.
A marshmallow roasting on a stick over a campfire with glowing embers and burning logs in a fire pit.
A young girl in a pink dress enjoys eating a s'more outdoors, with eyes closed in delight.
Young child holding and eating a gooey s'more with melted marshmallow and chocolate between graham crackers.
A young girl in a pink dress holds and examines a half-eaten smore with sticky fingers.
A young girl in a pink dress roasting marshmallows over a rustic fire pit outdoors at dusk.
A young girl holds a marshmallow on a stick over a campfire at dusk, her profile illuminated by soft light.
Girl in pink dress roasting marshmallow over rustic fire pit outdoors at dusk.
Close-up of toasted marshmallow on stick held by smiling girl with braided hair.
Young girl with braided hair eating a s'more on a stick outdoors, wearing a pink sleeveless top.
Young girl with dark hair eating a granola bar snack, close-up candid photo of child enjoying food outdoors.
Silhouetted trees against a dramatic dusk sky with orange clouds and a jet contrail at twilight.
A Tentrr canvas tent glows warmly at sunset, surrounded by tall trees in a scenic campsite setting.
White feathers resting delicately on lush green grass, captured in soft natural light.

My work is important to me in a way that not everyone fully understands.


Photographing motherhood, newborns and your child’s milestones gives me so much joy. When I capture you with your little baby or big sibling, I wish that I had those moments captured of me during those early years of parenting. While I edit grandma with her grandkids, I see my own grandparents in that moment and yearn for my parents to be here with my kids. It changes how I see that moment, the decision to capture certain interactions, and all the choices that go into your final gallery. Documenting your family’s legacy gives me a chance to celebrate your generational history being made.

It is truly an honor.


This year, we made more of our history at Camp Dearborn, and I found myself doing so many of the same things I had done there before. When I was a kid we always got ice cream from the canteen and begged to take a paddle boat out with my mom. Although, apparently, paddle boats have advanced since my childhood because there wasn't just a white boat this time. There was a yellow duck and a purple dragon, and Josie obviously chose the purple dragon!💜


Much of what we did this year was part of the new traditions we've created with my own kids - a bonfire at night and s'mores of course, crafts in the morning and tie-dye shirts, just like I used to do with Ben and Ella when they were her age. I couldn't help but laugh at how much has changed in thirty years while somehow feeling exactly the same. Someday, if I’m lucky, my kids may look at a photograph of us and remember more than what we were wearing or what the weather was like. I hope they remember the stories I've told and that this was a place her mother and grandmother and great grandmother loved too.

Two children smiling at a picnic table outdoors, one wearing an Under Armour hoodie, enjoying a school lunch break.
Two children stand smiling on a sandy beach by a calm lake on a cloudy summer day.
Two children enjoying Guernsey Farms Dairy ice cream outside a concession stand window.
Two girls sitting at a green picnic table in a park surrounded by trees on a sunny day.
Two children walking down a dark road at night with a crescent moon visible through the trees above.
Two children sit on a bench roasting marshmallows over a campfire at a campground with tents in the background.
Two children dancing and posing on a dark street at night, wearing pink outfits and having fun.
Two smiling children pose indoors, boy in Captain America shirt and khaki shorts, girl in purple jacket and pink shorts.
Two people sit on a sandy beach beside a calm lake surrounded by lush green trees under a partly cloudy sky.
Two children walking on a sandy beach toward a lake, carrying pool noodles and swim gear on a sunny day.

Maybe that’s why I love my birthday.

I get to get older.

I get to see the thread between where I’ve been

and where I’m going.


Fall is such a transition—the season changing, school beginning, routines shifting—but with my birthday during this time, it also feels like a promising new beginning in so many ways. The most exciting change in my business this year has been opening my studio in the Arts Warehouse in Canton’s Cherry Hill Village. A space that I am able to decorate, create in, rearrange, dream in, and slowly make my own. I have rearranged that space two hundred times and made a mere three hundred adjustments as I continue to learn and grow as a photographer.


But that, perhaps, is what I love most about having a studio. It gives me room. Room to experiment. Room to try new ideas. Room to welcome people into a space that feels like me. Room to make mistakes and change my mind and try again. Room to imagine new possibilities for what Rooted Vision can become. It has opened the door for more than just portraits. It has given me a place for creativity, collaboration, teaching, community, and all of the little ideas that seem to find their way into my head.


It gives me a place to honor the things that inspired me while still making room for something new.


The old photographs still matter.

The stories still matter.

The people who came before us still matter.

But so does what we create now.

The photographs we make today become someone else’s memories someday.

The stories we tell our children become part of their understanding of where they came from.

The places we return to become part of their childhood, too.

And the little things that feel ordinary right now—the tie-dye shirts, the lake, the paddle boats, the bonfires, the photographs spread across the table—might someday be the things they miss the most.


I don’t know exactly what the next year will bring. I know there will be more photographs, more stories, more rearranging of the studio, more lessons learned, more people to meet and more memories to make. But if I’m being honest, I want s’more of what matters.

More time with my kids.

More stories from the people who came before us.

More photographs to pass down.

More opportunities to create, learn and gather with others.

More adventures.

More reasons to stop and notice the little things.


I am forever grateful for the opportunity to meet new people and work with some of the most encouraging, supportive and artistic souls I have ever known. As the photography business and photo club continues to grow, I cordially and humbly invite you to follow along on our adventures.


After all, there are still plenty of stories to tell.🌿

Orange butterfly resting on purple wildflowers among green stems in a soft-focus meadow setting.

"It is never too late to be

what you might’ve been."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-George Eliot