Hey Miss Mae

Photo walks con mí novio 📷

Today we were pretty sure I’d, once again, improperly wound my roll and had been shooting a blank roll- only to open the camera to discover I never put any film in 🥹

I’ve been “shooting” on this for ✨ weeks ✨

Happy Sunday, yall

The peak of the year.

All is sunstressed and blushed.

My favorite flowers are on sale everywhere and I think of my (once roommate turned friend turned) sister’s mom (turned midwife, turned mischievous angel on my shoulder).

An early memory I have of Keri as a roommate was the small bundles of flowers she insisted on keeping in our apartment. One day I sat with her mom in a midwife appointment, huge and hormonal at the end of my first pregnancy, crying because I was so poor I couldn’t even buy flowers to make my current dinky apartment feel a little more homey for this baby to be welcomed into.

Ann very dismissively and decisively said “Oh please, just by the damn flowers, Mae.” And we both laughed. I was getting beans and rice and pasta donated by the Kroger-bag-full from a loving friend, and Ann promised me I wouldn’t starve from buying myself a tiny bouquet every now and then.

Years passed and I left Fort Worth, three little girls later, one with Keri’s middle name, I’d see peonies pop up in the summer, Keri’s favorite flower, with her mama’s fed up voice in my head, insisting that I buy them. And I let myself once a year. A buy a few at different stages, letting them unfurl staggered over the weeks. And I miss and cherish those women.

Happy

Missing my salt air people 🍉

Sending special love to all those celebrating their first Father’s Day 💛

“You are so much sunshine
In every square inch.”


Another weekend of summer is here for us, y’all. ☀️ 🍿 🍃

Happy Wife, Happy Life 🌈

The pool was my bestest friend with my summer babies ☀️
May your pools be perfectly cool, and free of bandaids.

Happy Sunday, y’all

A summer of pink and yellow and

The warmth of night swims and no bedtimes 🌙

“Summer has filled her veins with light
and her heart is washed with noon”
-C. Day Lewis

Summertime momming is a balancing act of snacky dinners and eating out, showers and sprinklers, staying up late and getting up early before it gets too hot out. ☀️

Today is my business anniversary. 🎂

While most of my features from HuffPost to the Today Show, to National Geographic have largely centered around stories of motherhood, my very first paid gig was Father’s Day 2010 minis in DFW.

In the past 14 years, there have been a handful of men who have shown up to a session for their partner and kids displaying a version of manhood that was unrelenting in joy and gentleness. I can name each of them (including my friend Brett, with his baby boy when he was still round.) It is a part of my portfolio I rarely talk about, but am deeply moved by.

Thank you to everyone who has trusted me to photograph them exactly as they are. Your families in all their stages of mess, your love as you start a new life with a spouse, the day day you met the little person you grew, and milestone in between, have been an honor to be a part of.

My constant check ins-

🧠 is this intuition or anxiety?
💪🏽 is this discipline or stubbornness?
✨ is this grace or apathy?

Ektar Summer 💛🎞️🩷

Summertime people watching at the Pearl >>> everything ☀️

I had a blast getting some detail shots of this very fun reception with this weekend 🍾

Show up soft ☁️

I’m currently in line at with lots of little toddlers in their swimmers, chanclas, and pancitas hanging out.
Memorial Day weekend culturally signifies the start of summer for many, and for lots of mamas, we can evaluate our readiness and willingness to “be ready” by the condition of our bodies.

So I’m just putting this here for some realistic body image on your page in case you’ve already seen too much “bikini body” motivation 👙 ☀️

Change and creativity are reciprocal parties in my cycle of artistry, mothering, and relationships.

One spurring on and or inhibiting the other at any given point.
Both vital to keep going.

Longevity is a core value I hold with reverence and a loose grip.
It is a phenomenon that both inspires storytelling and is amplified by it.
Recognizing my first year at while celebrates its 75th anniversary is a hopeful experience.

Read more about this reflection at Goodness Weekly

I’m trying my hardest to remain in the exact moment that I’m in, but I’ve always been a planner at heart.

Currently, my body mind and spirit are so excited for the new rhythm of summer. Trying my hardest to remain patient for what this season will bring ☺️

Mothers and artists- a lifetime of service.

Message for info on summer sessions in San Antonio, and the Coastal Bend.

So often, we are our own worst enemy.

Working through my life long behavioral patterns with a trusted therapist has been one of the most beneficial practices I’ve prioritized.

It manifests in my relationships, my art, and my parenting.

The births of my three daughters, each of them, are the most profound experiences of my life.

The hours, from beginning to end, continue to hold lessons for me. Insight into my body and heart and each of my daughters respectively can be found upon every reflection.

During a dinner in CDMX, I found myself, once again, waxing poetically to new friends the profoundness of experiencing and witnessing birth. I became insecure, fearing my thoughts were being list in translation.

Today, in sorting my feelings about Mother’s Day (because, as introverted intuitives do, I must sort my feelings about a collective experience) I challenged myself as to whether or not what I have to offer the world, and my daughters, began and ended in those hours. It’s just a thought, maybe you’ve had it too.

Here, at Frida Kahlo’s home, the desire to be a mother was so tangible, I could feel it in my breath.

What if the birth of my children is the pinnacle experience of my existence? I think that may be worth the long suffering of motherhood, and the celebration of it through expression.

This year I’m on the side of the pendulum that hates the day, and loves the women.

Thank you for this portrait of me.
Missing my children, loved, connected to my birthday twin.

Spring wildflower season here in Texas is beginning to wane, and I am so excited to be introduced to the flora of Mexico City this week as I travel 🌸

I have Psalm 139 (now faintly) tattooed on my inner arm, and was reminded of it again when I came across a clip of Stephen Colbert reciting the Hound of Heaven.

It is a long read, but a beautiful one.

Just the most squishable week old set of sisters .el

Welcome M, can’t wait to find out if you’re as wild as big sis.

Happy Earth Day, earthlings 🌎 🌸 🕷️

A birth story

The Birth of Maxine YouTube Content Warning: Live birth, nudity of birthing woman, blood in water. Mom and baby were perfectly attended to by an experience midwifery team.Thank you for ...

“I can do this, I have done this before.”

This mama’s mantra breathed over her lips and roared through her body as her husband, birth team, and I watched in awe.

A welling up of gratitude and joy visited everyone in the room when this mama reached down to welcome her baby into the world.

Welcome Max.
You are so loved.

I have often said that my mind is my greatest enemy.
I’m learning it can be my strongest advocate too.