EVERY NEW BEGINNING COMES FROM SOME OTHER BEGINNING’S END. Seneca
22 seems like a good number to stop moving. I have been a rolling stone for most of my life living in creative spaces in bad neighborhoods to accommodate my profession as a photographer. Then I met my husband and we moved to the suburbs in a home he bought to flip. At first I felt like a feral child being introduced to the predictable and the responsible. I terribly missed my art studio situated in an upcoming trendy street filled with cafes, boutiques and bookstores. I would visit my old neighborhood, but it had changed. In just a year, it had become the hottest spot in Denver to bar hop and hang out. Nothing seemed familiar, the city or the suburb.
Most of my photography career was spent trudging thru mud on farms across the globe capturing images of farmers planting, growing, and picking their harvest. I was always sorry when the assignments were over. I would miss the smell of the earth and the passion these folks had for their land. So I decided to recreate my experiences on the farm and dig up the backyard of our suburban home and plant a garden. It was the most captivating occurrence I had experienced since I picked up a camera. The obsession began.
In four years, my husband and I have made this suburban house into a home. We got married in our backyard garden between the swiss chard and collard greens. We raised chickens and we learned to can. We have learned to live simply and find beauty in the ordinary.
So why in the world would we move? It is simple progression. We want to combine our love for art, farming, and preservation in a new venture and this home cannot support our vision. This is a family home where kids should be raised. Where all the rooms are filled with toys and laughter instead of empty bedroom sets. We found a perfect older smaller home with plenty of land to build a studio and an organic garden in an urban location! We sold our home to a beautiful younger couple in need of space to raise their almost two year old son and future children. This was meant to happen.
We are storytellers by trade and we hope to draw attention to the simple elegance found in preservation, quality craftsmanship, and artistic endeavors from my husband and me and the community that surrounds us. I hope you will check back on our progress on our new journey.