End. And beginnings.

This night, we took a moment to reflect on how far she’s come. 

What have you been up to since the election?

If you’re in a circle like mine, you’ve been connecting to likeminded folx; drinking lots of kava or chamomile tea and coffee, alternately; and prepping, complete with outlines for Plans B, C and D. Me too. All that, and reflecting.

My daughter and I were reflecting when we photographed the portrait above. Watching the Portland crows fly by, barely lit by city windowlight, we sipped warm drinks at Caffe Umbria on Madison, letting ourselves feel what, in recent years, we so often shelved. We’d been so busy: She, clinging to simply surviving her two 2019 traumatic brain injuries (TBIs) and the cascade of health downturns they caused; me to finding medical providers who actually knew how to help her.

(“Why don’t you just go to the doctor?” asked the perennially grumpy checker at our local Natural Grocers, somewhere in year two of watching us haunt that store’s naturopath, who eventually gave up on us, still with her same cheerful smile. We were probably a dozen doctors in, just by then.)

As we sat there, watching flock after flock winging it in the early night, my mind kept returning to some of our darkest times, on our bathroom floor. We spent no few hours on that floor. Now, she remembers little from that time. I remember it all - including the laughs. Daughter has a high pain tolerance (TBI teaches lessons like this). If she could make a joke through whatever latest symptom her body threw at her, she would. That’s how I knew when she was Really Not Okay.

It’s a weird time in the world. Climate change is taking off at frightening speed; horrific genocides are being live-streamed and mainstreamed; and marginalized communities are bracing for the US’ dumbest experiment yet - voted in while most folks were foolishly sleeping on their right to vote, it seems.

(“Sometimes you have to take a break from saving people from the swamp, to keep yourself from getting sucked in, too,” said one of daughter’s earlier knowledgeable doctors, in front of her (!).)

But for our little family, the latest in strings of diagnoses, therapies and lifestyle changes, researched and teased out detective-style (Long story: I’m writing a book about it.), have ushered in the brightest era we’ve had in over five years. It’s jolting.

I’ve got big ideas and plans for photography and writing, both. Implementation is on crip- and end-stage capitalism time, but it’s happening. I’m hopeful nicotine patches will bring an end to crip time for two in our little family. I think I’m glad my late smoker-apologist parents aren’t here to gloat about this one. Something in my body’s changing, but it’s too early to tell exactly how much. I’ll keep you posted.

I’m just glad life now grants space to dream about writing, photography and an expanded tribe for me; and for all my kids dream for their lives, for them. LongCovid in two of us and TBI in the third hasn’t left us lots of room to dream. Plenty of time for it, but not much room.

(So. Much. Judgement. From all in our former “communities,” who’ve never even remotely been here.)

Oh, there are still hard times. There are still plenty of tears, particularly for daughter. Turns out short term memory is kinda important. Short term memory, good health ... so important! This girl, now almost 18, continues to pay a way heftier price for participating in two kids’ camps at age 12 than a just world would allow. Trusted leaders behaved in Most Untrustworthy ways, to great damage to her.

On a more material note, I recently had cause to calculate just how much I have spent, out of pocket, on my daughter’s TBI recovery thus far. In five+ years, I have spent over $58K on that alone - not counting the lost car, lost wages or anything else. For perspective, in a year, my fixed-income family makes just over $55K.

Whatever the logical takeaway from those numbers is, my takeaway is: “Damn. I kept us afloat through that.” I’m pretty darned proud of myself.

As I write, the US Department of Education as we know it is on the chopping block. Daughter just transitioned (miraculously!!) from homeschool to public high school, under the necessary protection of a vital 504 plan.

I’ve been bracing for what’s next in daughter’s TBI-compromised health for five years now. Do I really have to keep bracing for what’s next, US government? Really?

Maybe our last five years was good preparation for the road ahead.

Let’s Take Our Time.

Elspeth, circa 2015, showing her modeling prowess at age 8. A pro compliment on this photo early in my career gave me a much-needed boost of go power. ©Portraits of Connection by Charity Feb

Connection and My Portrait Photography Studio.

Elspeth. For me, this is an iconic photograph of my daughter and muse. Shot here in Camas when she was 8, it reminds me why we do things a little differently around here.

Let me share some background. My photography education unfolded in several chapters. One started in 2005, when I married my kids’ future Da and, while walking on the beach on our honeymoon, we decided to become wedding photographers together. At the time, I idolized a celebrity and fashion portrait photographer who gave a generous helping of charity portraits on the side. Fast forward five years later: Hubby and I staged a daylong shoot, modeled after this photographer’s work, at our local church. Then, a month later, hubby unexpectedly died.

Several years later, I was still reeling, but also hard at work to establish my wedding photography business and support my young kids. Then-idol photographer had a great loss of his own. He responded by creating an entire website around teaching other photographers everything he knew - but he promised to be present, to be involved. He promised to stay connected. Having lost my photography partner, as well as my husband, I saw it as divine serendipity, plunked down $1K I didn’t really have to plunk, and joined in.

His compliment of this portrait of Elspeth was worth every penny, in my heart. If memory serves, it was something like, “A little hot (bright), but a solid portrait.” Me feet left the ground, I tell you.

But less than a year later, we members on his site were looking around, then looking at each other, asking aloud, “Where’d he go?”

Connection (or the lack thereof) has been a central theme to my life. I grew up in a TV household. TV accompanied us in every room. I still start to panic, even now, when I can’t get away from a TV droning in the background. Little did I know how relatively lucky I was back then; how “smart”phones would multiply societal disconnect exponentially.

Maybe it was the same for many of my fellow aspiring photographers in that group. We had access to an impressive library of how-to videos, but like me - for whatever reason - maybe many of them just needed someone to say, “You got this. Keep going.”

Maybe we needed someone to connect with us.

It wasn’t until 2020, when LongCovid - an illness without a cure, and for which radical rest is often the only way to maintain a halfway enjoyable baseline of ability - forced me to slow down, that I really reclaimed my home and family space for peace and connection. LongCovid is (at best) annoying AF, but slow living is, frankly, lovely. I’m not going back.

So, I run my photography studio the same way. And I mask everywhere, so masking’s not a problem; no need to Zoom for safety.

Prospective client, I want to take the time to sit down in a comfy cafe with you, enjoy a treat, and connect. I want to get to know you well enough to plan for your time here. And I want to know you well enough to stop mid-shoot and say, “Something’s off. What do we need to change?” if the need arises. Heck, we might even end up friends. And why not? Isn’t that how human society is supposed to work?

Last I heard, said celeb photographer was advertising 5-minute portraits. Five whole minutes. I guess there must be a market for disconnection.

I’m betting on the market for connection.

Late to the Party

Charity (she/her) Photo credit: Elspeth Feb

Late to the Party is your clear, queer invitation to celebrate … you!

Did you wait to come out? Whether you waited a month, 30 years, or decades more; whether you’re in your teens or your 80s; whether you’re still waiting, and want to make this your big reveal; this is your invitation to come out and play. Let’s celebrate you. For $390, your celebration includes:

• A beverage meetup with me to talk about your journey, where you are right now, and how you’d like to represent yourself in your photos and story;

• Up to five paragraphs to tell your coming out story, to accompany the finished portrait of your choice on the “Late the the Party” page on our Portraits of Connection website;

• Professional hair and makeup with Linda Wong (http://www.lindawongmuah.com) - or go natural, it’s up to you!

• Portraits sculpting you in light and your choice(s) of color created in a 1 hour studio portrait session;

• 3 high-resolution digital images with print releases;

• Choose your favorite photos same day, at the end of your session; receive your fully edited photos within a week.

If this offer resonates with you, reach out. Does it resonate, but you’re not sure if it applies to you? Reach out. Already taken advantage of one of my offers, and want to do this one too? Reach out: https://www.charityfeb.com/camas-portrait-studio-photographer-charity-feb-contact

Here, I’ll start … https://www.charityfeb.com/late-to-the-party-queer-portrait-sessions

SEO, this portrait studio, and you.

Someday I will look at this graphic of my Camas portrait studio website traffic and think, “Awww, that was when my web site was just an itty bitty little young thing. So cute!”

In my first go at this photography business - shooting weddings, families, environmental portraits and the like - I focused on my art, and scoffed at search engine optimization (SEO). This time around, with my new Camas portrait studio focus, I’m ready to admit I ignored SEO at my peril. It’s not so effective to create great art where too few in this digital age can see it. This does not pay the bills.

In fact, I’ve been taking a short pause at building my new studio portfolio to focus exclusively on SEO. Upon sharing this with a colleague, she asked me to pass along any SEO tips I might have.

“Sounds like a great blog post!” I answered.

So, here are the top 5 SEO tricks that have started to get my web page on the portrait studio map in the Pacific Northwest region where I live, taken from the class “Helpful Hints and Tricks to Boost Your SEO” by Missy Fant of https://missyfantphotography.com. With apologies to Missy for all the points I’m sure I’ll miss, I’ve summarized my top 5 tips here, just for you. These are the efforts I’ve spent the most time on thus far.

Ready? Here we go:

1.) Keywords, keywords, keywords.

Ideally 1-2, but I’m wordy so it’s more like a top 3 sometimes branching into 6. What’s your focus, your location, your niche? Narrow that down to a handful of words and put ‘em in URLs, early in page text, image filenames. Sprinkle those puppies everywhere you can - naturally, of course, so that, if you’re me, it looks like you say “Camas portrait studio” over and over, as a matter of course, like some say “uh” or “like” or “dude.”

2.) Size image files to 1200px on the wide side, to keep your site loading quickly. Squarespace also likes me to stick to 500 kb per image, so I do that too. I’m very careful to mind this rule, as a portrait business web page is very photograph heavy!

3.) Blog. You can ChatGPT it, and it might make SEO happy, but I for one won’t read your blog anymore. Sorry. When more of our worldwide human population is gainfully employed I’ll get more excited about AI - maybe. BUT just about everyone I know is doing it, so, there’s that.

I’m posting steadily at a pace of one new blog every two weeks or so. I like to post them as I write them, instead of writing ahead and scheduling my posts, to preserve the organic nature of my page. I’m using my business blog as an extension of my journalistic/creative writing self, and having a lot of fun with it: https://www.charityfeb.com/camas-studio-portrait-photographer-charity-feb-blog.

4.) Update your Google business profile.

I hate to do it, complicit in g’cide as Google is, but I can’t be present to protest the empire if I can’t pay hellacious grocery, housing and medical bills, now, can I? So far I’m not doing any paid updates.

5.) Update your Bing profile.

I never use Bing, but some people do, and that’s actually where I’m finding my biggest search result success right now. I’m sure this will translate into customers any day now. Again, no paid updates at this point.

And that’s it. Oh, there’s more in the big book of all things SEO that came with Missy’s class, but spending time every week addressing at least one item in this list has gotten me much higher in the listings. I’m not always near the top, or even always on the first page of searches - yet. But I’ve seen progress since I started, and I know that as I persist, I will get there!

Bonus tip:

6.) Find inspiration to keep your fire lit, because the grind of capitalism wants to wear you down.

Capitalism doesn’t want you entrepreneuring. Capitalism wants you to be a compliant little cog in the wheel. My time in telephone customer service taught me this. I remember well: Many, many well-educated, talented folks are staffing the phones for big companies, answering inane questions for too little pay and paltry freebies. Not me; never again.

My kids are my number-one inspirations. We run a very tight ship of three, and we’ve gotten good at facing life’s storms together, and being each others’ cheerleaders.

But sometimes a little larger-than-life inspiration can really help. I’ve found just that by diving deeper into the history and storytelling of one of my very favorite Korean pop groups, ATEEZ. You might have seen my recent posts about last Sunday’s concert in Tacoma: https://www.instagram.com/p/C9d5jUKvuuM/?img_index=1.

ATEEZ is enjoying a skyrocketing popularity now, but that has come after years of striving and naysayers. If you’re an ATEEZ fan, check out this blog that delves into their lore, and the real-life struggles they turned into their art: https://www.ateezstoryline.com/blog.

Happy SEOing, and remember: Keep that spark sparking until it catches!

Hair and makeup artistry at Portraits of Connection studio.

Portland hair and makeup artist Linda Wong works her magic with Camas portrait client Janet Traweek in glittery Kpop style.

I’ll be honest: Makeup intimidated the hell out of me until very recently. At first, I wasn’t sure exactly how to integrate a hair and makeup artist (HMUA) into my practice in this new Camas portrait studio - or whether I should, at all.

When I was growing up, my mom would “put her face on.” That phrase never hit me right. Do women not have a face unless we “put it on?” That turned into baggage I’ve been trying to put down: (https://www.charityfeb.com/camas-studio-portrait-photographer-charity-feb-blog/portraits-transform-us). Defiantly, I decided early on in life that, for the most part, I wasn’t having any of that makeup stuff.

But, makeup can help express femininity. I started looking at it anew as I came out as bisexual later in life. I’d done some healing work surrounding cosmetics in the past year with my daughter, Elspeth, who just so happens to be a makeup maven. We would practice together, she would give me tips, and then we’d take selfie portraits together afterwards: (https://www.instagram.com/p/CzokcMxRyqf/).

Then, my photographer friend Missy Fant (https://missyfantphotography.com ), upon hearing of my hopes for this studio (welcoming clients from diverse, marginalized communities), leaned forward in one of our local photographer group meetings and suggested I reconsider working with a HMUA. When Missy leans in and says something to me, I listen. I started sharing my vision for this studio with more of my fellow photographers. Who do they trust for HMUA? Irina Negrean (https://www.irinanegrean.com) sang the praises of her friend and HMUA Linda Wong (http://www.lindawongmuah.com). I was thrilled when Linda agreed to meet me for boba tea to see if our styles meshed.

When we met, I shared my checkered history surrounding makeup with Linda. I remember my senior high school photos, with a photographer who made no effort to know me, all made up - did a relative apply it? I don’t remember - in a manner that did not reflect who I was, at all. Those photos did nothing for my already fragile high-school self esteem. I shared my goal - to make this portrait studio a place of healing and safety for folks in all stages of their journeys towards knowing, loving and expressing themselves - with Linda.

To my surprise, considering her impressive portfolio of arts and entertainment clients, Linda was as kind and humble as could be. She heard my own struggles surrounding makeup with patience and understanding, and described the joy she feels in sharing her art, teaching others what she knows, and bringing out the beauty in her clients. What’s more, Linda’s clients include folks in all stages of exploring their relationship with gender expression. She was excited to work with my vision, and I’m so excited to offer her services to you, my clients! As we start to work together, I find myself eagerly anticipating hiring Linda Wong for my own self portraits.

My own cosmetics journey continues. I feel I’m still in early days of learning to express myself with makeup. In homeschooling my now-teen kids, I’ve kept to the mantra that I don’t have to be an expert in every subject, but can come alongside my kids, learning with them. This practice has served us well. So it is with makeup, as I support my clients in their styling on the day of their portrait shoot.

I can share a few things I have learned recently, though:

• It can be tempting to go all out and push your comfort zone with hair or makeup styling - and sometimes that push out of our comfort zone just what we need. But it’s best to speak up if you get there, and find it uncomfy! As a photographer who focuses on grooving on your wavelength, I’ll speak up if I sense a break in your groove, but remember, your portrait session is for you - both the finished photographs, and the experience itself. So feel free and welcome to speak up in your session, even if it means changing gears!

• Au naturel is a fine, fine comfort zone. I still hang out here most of the time, and am delighted to find my self-portrait work transforms the me I see, makeup or no. It’s a beautiful feeling.

• The more I learn about both health in my chronic illness journey, and beauty in my portrait photographer journey, the more I learn that many (if not most) of our “standards” - beauty or medical - are made up, often by folks who stand to gain by our “deficits.”

  Don’t let anyone tell you who you are, who your should be, or how you should express yourself.

Storytelling: Camping out in the past for a minute.

The journal where this essay was originally written, with one of the kids’ and my souvenirs from our adventuring days before LongCovid, with its signature national-park graphic style.

C/W: Brief mention of SA.

This true story takes place just this past Saturday.

I was ready to come home and claim my place in my li’l garden castle by early evening, I swear I was. But the moment I walked in, I was right back to being that little girl, that first wife, that third wife, again.

All I want to do is get away from them, now: All the dissatisfied men in my life. But I can’t get away from the one I’m raising, yet. He’s only 14.

Triggers are a bitch.

It’s only the first month after the 5-years’-medical-fun bankruptcy, and we’re being Very Careful with money. But The Trigger Pit calls for rescue outings, and I was there this morn, so out Elspeth and I went.

We were going to grocery shop, but Great North called to us first, for coffee - and then, The Waterfront.

Vancouver, Washington is investing heavily in creating a Columbia River waterfront destination strip. Last week we were near there for a pro-Palestine community-building event, and discovered Salt and Straw (https://saltandstraw.com/pages/about) has a stake in the new waterfront strip venture. Oooh.

They win for creative flavors, but I’m gonna be honest: They don’t beat Alec’s. But we were there, and it was hot. And we hit Wild Fin’s takeout window for some nummy beer-battered Alaska cod and chips. We shared a 3-piece. We turned our Pit Rescue Day into a girls’ outing, which we’ve both earned. Not that we need to earn rest, but we’re working with crazy focus, both of us: Elspeth on getting through pre-algebra so she can dive into college prep math, now that her TBI-injured brain can take it; me on the portrait studio business - always on the portrait studio business.

By mid-afternoon, we were both tired enough to head home (for more work! Now that I’ve SEO’d up the website, I’ve got new photography to post). But on the drive home, I was hit with the urge to revisit that first wife, who was me - the one who didn’t even know she wasn’t a Bad Girl, she was an SA’d girl who didn’t know she was broken, so didn’t know she needed to heal. So, we drove by the house she (I) lived in, 30 years ago, with the first husband.

You wouldn’t have believed the gardens, I told Elspeth as she drove Moondancer past Wy’East Middle, per my directions. We bought the house from two lesbians who were crazy amazing gardeners, and it featured a perfectly finished perennial garden - but I was overwhelmed. Care for a garden? I couldn’t even care for myself, let alone a husband - which he gave me an earful about on our last phone call. He was tearful, angry, triumphant. I just took it, ‘cause, you know: “Bad.”

We rounded the corner past my old dentist’s office - 132nd, that’s right, I remembered. Then a right turn on a dead-end and it’s right there, now with a suntanned, middle-aged man straightening his “USA” door decor, this weekend before the Fourth of July. There’s a big US flag waving above the garage where we hosted that haunted house with the bookstore kids, too. We did good on that one.

The man sees Elspeth and I parked outside his house, gives us an inquisitive look, then walks out to our car, halting politely when I tell him I have LongCovid with a “Stop” signal of my hand, but still friendly, and very happy to talk about his house. When did I live there? Oh, 30 years ago, I chuckled. His wife bought it from someone 21 years ago (“What was the last name?”), and the last name sounded familiar to him. His (first husband’s) kiddo bicycled by once, said he used to live there (apparently). Now they live across McGillivray, this friendly fellow offered, unsolicited. Soon he flashed us a peace sign and welcomed us to look all we liked, walking back inside his patriotically decorated house, now sans perennials clinging to its every corner, all those mums replaced with middle-aged rhodies and evergreens, and grass lawn.

It all came pouring out. The lonely hours spent at that window in my writing room, unable to write a word. The family holidays and his pizzas, and the bike rides allll the way to my parents’ home in Ridgefield. The expectations to be happy in suburbia, to like marriage, children … anything. How disconnected I was from it, all of it. The other window, where I sat in a chair and wouldn’t get up that fateful Thanksgiving. Done, I was. Done.

I cried. I hadn’t been enjoying hurting anybody, but that didn’t seem to occur to anyone in my life at the time. I hurt for that girl, who was me.

And then, I was done looking at that house. It hurt to look at it, still.

“Can we go now?”

A minute later, we’re at McGillivray. The old me would have been convinced we happened upon that house at that time for A Reason.

But I have a copy of Carl Sagan’s ‘Science as a Candle in the Dark” on my bookshelf now, and while I’ve been a little too busy to read it, I know, when I get to it, I’ll find he’ll have been right about that, too. He was right about almost everything - everything but the value of damaged goods. These particular goods were waiting for her princess to rescue her. Her princess was then, and has always been, me.

P.S. After I un-triggered myself writing this essay, the 14 year old once again showed he has more humility and grace than any of these other dudes combined (you too, Dad. Sorry).

The 14 year old’s the keeper.

In review …

This is the portrait client experience I’m shooting for.

This photographer will never ask for your review. Know why?

Nowadays, businesses think it savvy to ask customers for a review before folks even get their foot in the door, let alone their payment processed. Personally, it makes me want to run. I refuse to affirm this culture that constantly reminds customers they only matter for what they can give. That would be a transactional relationship, yes? I got enough of that in my family of origin, thank you very much. Just … no.

Besides, I’ve just gotten the only review I need. Let me back up a bit. You see, a few years back, opening this portrait studio was the last thing on my mind.

I’d started a GoFundMe to try and keep up with Elspeth’s traumatic brain injury medical bills, and this lovely local woman named Janet donated with a sweet note. She also had a horse-loving daughter, she said.

I thanked her for seeing me - for seeing us. And for some reason, she kept seeing us. In this town of Camas, largely made up of folks who at least appear not to be sinking in this economy, that alone has meant a lot. Missing the healthy give and take of friendships I had before we fell into the capitalist societal abyss of chronic illness, I naturally reached out when I had something to give that she might like: A portrait session.

Janet and I met for boba tea, and I shared my vision for portrait sessions crafted around the place my clients find themselves in their life story. She played my game, sharing where she was at and where she wanted to be. She also gave me lighting and effects ideas that sparked my imagination and stretched my technical limits. You can see the results on my home page: Janet is the silver-haired beauty (two little buns twisted atop her head) with the sparkly Kpop-y makeup (courtesy Linda Wong http://www.lindawongmuah.com) who looks like the human embodiment of the season of fall, or maybe winter, in some Korean drama fantasy series: (https://www.charityfeb.com).

I’ve just started putting them up, and there will be more, including this one:

That expression!

And Janet’s review of her portrait session? That is EXACTLY what I am going for. That review is mission accomplished.

I want to build business relationships based on relationship, not keeping score. And I’m gonna do it, capitalism be damned.

P.S. Thanks, Janet. :)

Portrait: Meet my new friend, Greer.

Storytelling portrait of a transgender woman reclining, tear running down her face.

Portraits transform us. Sometimes photographing portraits transforms us, too.

I lost a good friend once - a nearly lifelong friend. A friend who’d stood by me when she went by “he,” and stood by me when she came out as '“she.” I’m still looking for her, so I can apologize.

I can’t understand what it feels like to be a transgender woman. Obviously. I was trying, but I didn’t try hard enough, then. I’m working hard to do better, now.

When I reached out for new studio portfolio clients - or just new friends - Greer answered my call. We started messaging, and we got along so well. So we met for tea, and we got along so well, still!

In just a couple short months, Greer has been sounding board, confidante and cheerleader. And she actually wants to know and be known. How rare that has been in my life of late.

I can’t understand what it feels like to be a trans woman. But I can understand tearing up the instant I hear a song that moves me. And I felt honored that Greer trusted me enough to let me shoot the moment when Joanna Sterling’s “Girl By Choice” started playing - and trusts me enough to let me post it.

That kinda tells you all you need to know about our new friendship, I think.

Open my new Reveal Box portrait collection studio sample with me!

Graphistudio's Reveal Box will be the perfect portrait showcase for my clients. Handcrafted in Italy, imported to Camas, for you!

I ordered my first portrait studio sample. Check it out with me, won’t you?

Kpop: Grooving new life into this portrait photographer.

Kpop style inspires many of my portraits … and many of our everyday moments.

Korean pop music, or Kpop, came into our lives at the perfect time - back when my LongCovid meant this portrait studio was still a distant hope.

Elspeth’s friend had casually asked her if she’d ever heard of BTS. Elspeth surfed the internet to check them out. Then Elspeth not-so-casually fell down the rabbit hole known as Kpop, pulling her brother and I behind her. If you, like me back then, have never heard of BTS, here they are performing “Butter” at last year’s Grammy awards: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbkBVxU5K5A

Kpop music is a finely crafted auditory energy boost. For this chronically ill family, for whom energy is at a premium still, it was exactly what we needed to put some fun back into our lives, and give us energy to keep us fighting for answers and healing.

“My will to live greatly increased after I found Kpop,” Elspeth observed in November 2023.

We started holding family dance parties several times a week, learning the moves to “Butter,” “DNA,” “Boy with Luv,” “On,” “Dynamite,” “Permission to Dance.” So many dance moves, so many happy songs … and some deep, emotive ones, too: https://www.instagram.com/p/CnFx-UOjXlL/.

BTS is specifically known for their inclusive, uplifting lyrics, and a not-small fan demographic that includes older women like me - women who resonate with their message and their demonstrated hearts. Aslan even wrote a homeschool paper on it, “BTS and Older Women’s Empowerment.”

When I wasn’t yet well enough to practice my craft, Kpop kept me dreaming. When I was ready to start shooting again, Kpop album photobooks were just waiting to give me inspiration. In my previous photographer life, golden hour and dramatic composition were my inspirations. Now, in the studio, I needed a new source for my fire. Korean pop style - edgy, moody portraits, often with bright pops of color and so much flair - inspires me now.

Another motivation to explore Kpop was our desire to get away from All Things Colonizer Culture. Now, we’re not huge fans of capitalism in this house, either, and South Korea certainly plays that game exceedingly well. They appear to strongly pressure their populace to do the same. But hey, at least they’re not colonizers.

And they sure can get a groove on.

Portraits Transform Us.

Portraiture can be a powerful - and empowering - part of the healing process.

Portraits transform us. This belief is the heart of this little Camas photography studio.

Trauma transforms us, too. Trauma is familiar to my little family.

Birth trauma (both kids’ births); husband’s death when they were 2 and 5; their Nana neglected to her death (not my choice, nor in my control); THEN daughter’s traumatic brain injury and Aslan’s and my LongCovid.

It’s all been a trip - a trip that left us with baggage.

When Elspeth started to feel better (into almost the 5th year of her health saga), and we three collectively were no longer heading the wrong way health-wise, I finally felt like maybe I could start to relax, just a little. But I looked in that damned mirror and I just saw my mom staring back at me, in a body I no longer recognized. And let me tell you the kind of body dysmorphia that comes with a TBI or chronic illness onset at age 12, or 10.

No one in this house felt very pretty, or powerful. So yes: We know trauma.

I’m relatively new to the transformational power of portraits, though. When LongCovid granted me the energy to start practicing my art again. I practiced on myself, taking inspiration from this video, “The Healing Power of Self Portraits” by Sean Tucker: https://youtu.be/qwEGHa1-Bro?si=QqQ_u9M6V0kwsQEw.

I reprogrammed my mom’s self talk in my head, making my own strong face the one I see staring back at me through her makeup mirror; my voice the one I hear.

Healing through portraits: This self portrait is meant to write over negative images that used to be reflected in the author’s mirror. It is a picture of healing self talk.

I embraced my embattled belly (literally).

Healing through portraits: This belly has been through a lot, and it deserves all the love I can give it.

LongCovid at age 10 left Aslan with jaw issues, spine issues, and a body that wouldn’t gain weight. Treatments are ongoing. He’s not felt handsome of late. Now, I know he’s got his daddy’s looks, and of course I tell him all the time. But even I saw this shot on the back of my camera and called him over with, “Whoah. Come take a look at this!”

Healing through portraits: Photos like this help Aslan focus on the man he is becoming, rather than the youth LongCovid stole.

And Elspeth? I could (and will, ha!) write a book on the price of trading a days-away first period (it was, it really was) for a traumatic brain injury at age 12. Her body has been through literal hell, and it’s not over, maybe never will be. But. Now she’s the face of this photography studio.

Healing through portraits: Elspeth’s reaction to her portrait session was all I needed to see to know how transformative portraiture can be. Having walked with her through traumatic brain injury to the healing she’s achieved today, I can say with authority: It’s powerful.

I practice transformative portraiture because sometimes believing in yourself is all you have.

Maybe it’s all you need.

Storytelling: Why do I talk about chronic illness so much?

She had too many days, months and years like this. May days this bad be behind us.

Just over five years ago, determined to succeed as a photographer in Camas and on the cusp of just that, I might have asked the same.

Five years ago, my daughter suffered two concussions that ended life as we knew it. This photo, shared with her permission, sums up most of her last five years pretty accurately. She still has many hard times and many hard days. She is still technically disabled. But thankfully, most days for her don’t look like this, nowadays.

Four years ago, after encountering our local Costco utterly ransacked due to, according to the dairy-aisle dude, panic shopping ‘cause of “that sick kid in Seattle;” I spent a weekend researching what was going down in Wuhan. So, we knew the pandemic was coming. We were already isolating. Excited that my journalism degree - and right-wing conspiracist parents - had prepared me well for such a moment as this, we were jonesing to make the best of it. On a bike ride that Elspeth miraculously felt well enough to partake in, we were coughed on (as a joke?) by a teen walking by with a friend on Benton and 18th, here in Camas. One cough, outside, led to LongCovid in Aslan and I. LongCovid meant, among other fun features, crippling OCD and ADHD and a brief (we hope) heart issue for Aslan; it led to a body with a perpetually dying energy battery for me.

The most valuable wisdom any health provider shared with us came from one of Elspeth’s first docs, a brilliant neurofeedback tech named Nathan Hollenbeck, in Salem.

“There are three causes of mast cell activation syndrome (MCAS),” he told me gravely.

I will never forget that look on his face. I remember feeling this knee-jerk reaction to crack a joke, “Why so serious?” It can’t be this bad. Right?

“Viral infection, chronic illness itself,” he paused - at least in my imagination, remembering over and over, as I have since, “and traumatic brain injury.”

Nathan drew a good-cop bad-cop illustration of mast cells gone wrong - circles of cells with smiley-faces-turned-frowny faces - to illustrate his point. Thus began this mama’s sharp, steep learning curve.

If a triggering event like a virus or a TBI is the match, and MCAS is the bonfire, hEDS is the paint can hidden in the burn pile. Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos syndrome (hEDS) is a condition a lot of us were running around with, clueless about, until Covid hit - including my little (super active, martial artsing, hiking and biking) family and I. It’s an often-hereditary, not-so-rare-at-all connective tissue syndrome. Connective tissue, like mast cells, is everywhere throughout our bodies. Take a moment to connect those dots.

Up until just about two months ago, I have spent literally the last five years putting out medical fires and steeping myself in every related patient group I could find, to unlock the MCAS-trigger-to-choose a bodily system breakdown cycle. Few doctors understand MCAS or take the time to learn, so patients tend to find - or create - and share resources on their own. One excellent example: https://www.mastattack.org .

“Why don’t you just go to the doctor?” quipped a Natural Grocers checker earlier in our journey. Mmm-hmm, have fun with that. Unfortunately, our US medical and insurance systems are high-dollar capitalism profit machines. The system wants us sick. So, this has been no easy - or affordable - task.

Everyone around you struggling not to visibly sink below the poverty level? All those folks newly living in their cars? This is one reason why. Also, we vastly undercounted, not-so-rare, financially strapped ill folks are all jockeying to see too few providers. These providers are largely 1.) pushed out of practice for taking too long with patients who need more time or are funneled away from “rare” care to issues more lucrative to their employing health systems; and 2.) visibly (!) struggling with the debilitating neurological+ effects of repeated Covid exposure themselves, ‘cause no one’s masking anymore. It’s fun times.

Elspeth, Aslan and I have fought hard to win back the health we’ve regained, and we’ve found a (very) few incredible, humble, still-willing-to-learn medical providers along the way. But we would not be here if it weren’t for the NEISVoid - that’s the No End In Sight Void, for the uninitiated - and related online patient communities working so hard to try and help each other, even as they are barely well enough to help themselves. We owe them everything, and once I get this business profitable enough to start digging us out of $40+K of medical and related debt in less than one year (do the math on that one), I’m going to find ways to give back to that community.

If we all talked more about what really matters in life, so many of us wouldn’t be sinking in (barely) Surviving Capitalism ships. People I know and care about wouldn’t be clamoring for attention and funds for their GoFundMes, having liquidated their assets and maxed out their credit cards, in their quest for health care. And we wouldn’t all be manipulated all to hell for feeling guilty for using straws while billionaires jet around the world like they’re driving to the park across town.

And that, long story short, is why I talk about chronic illness so much.

Welcome to your portrait studio.

Bathe in comforting natural light or flattering strobes in this Covid-cautious Camas portrait studio.

That is all for now.