Last Sunday we bought flowering plants. We were considering placing flowers in our balcony since we moved but it took us two years to do so. We weren’t sure about how long we were going to live in this apartment so, even though we loved the idea, we didn’t want to buy plants that we couldn’t move with us later.
But corona hit us all and like most people I know, our apartment became more relevant for our family. It’s been our main view for long weeks. When lockdown started it was still gray and cold outside, and it added a bit more of a nostalgic feeling.
All this got me thinking about the concept of home. About what it means for us, what it means for our story.
And what it means to feel at home.
How many things we do to make our houses become homes, and how they frame our phases, our years.
And how sometimes our senses can take us to a season and place of our past.
How there’s no summer rain falling on a dry earth which scent doesn’t take me to my childhood’s street.
No fog and no pink sunset that doesn’t take me to my childhood’s views.
My beloved pets, the checkerboard floor in my grandmother’s house, the backyard clothesline. Climbing to the roof to see the sunset, or to the tree in front of our house to cry alone when I needed it or to be at peace.
Far from my childhood years (and my childhood’s home), I realize I don’t miss the walls but the moments I lived inside them.
That I’m lucky of having memories that bring me joy and happiness. I’m lucky to have pictures that take me back to those days of my early story.
And that tomorrow senses will take my daughters back to this time.
There’s a very common expression that says home is so much more than just a place. For me, home is where we feel safe and loved. For some people it’s a house, for others, it’s the people they meet and love in their lives.
It’s a capsule of memories, a sense of belonging, a hug, a season.
I photograph people in their homes by a conscious choice. I want them to feel safe and loved while I photograph them. I want them to have memories of how it is this season in their lives. Because I know someday there will be a scent, a sound, a texture that will bring them back to where they feel at home now.
Because I miss the things that I gave for granted and of so many of those I have no images today.
And I want to gift them the joy of glazing at their pictures and nostalgically smile thinking how happy they were when they felt at home.
So if you realize now that the moments you’re living now are worthy of being treasured by your children, and that these days deserve to be brought back by tomorrow’s senses: wait no longer to book your session.
If still in doubt, you can read more about who is an in-home session for on this link.
But if ready, let’s connect!
You can ask me all you need to know to make it happen. Or we can start planning your beautiful session right away.