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Last night I dreamt I was taking pictures of three women. Sisters. I didn’t get DOBs but they were in their fifties…but like old school fifties. Not like me and my gen-x gigi girlfriends.   There was one main client, the one who hired me, and her two older sisters. They wore pastel-colored, empire waist dresses, each in her own hue, like three Easter eggs fresh from a Spring dye bath. They arrived in high spirits, too high. They were giggling so flamboyantly that they became

“I’ve gained thirty pounds in the last year due to an autoimmune disease”, she started, wiping away tears. It was a thing, no doubt, but not the thing we were gathered into a small group to talk about. I began to picture her thirty pounds lighter, physically and emotionally. Even with the bonus weight she was still the thinnest person at our table. Interesting confession to this group, I mentally shrugged, as she began digging into the real reason we were sequestered. The wo

It’s day three and I’m already exhausted. The socials feel like they’re working double-time with courses we all must buy and protocols we all must follow. If you’re informed by content creators (and we all are), you know that no one is doing it right in 2026. Being okay is complacency and complacency is gross. We’re all just one $39 solution away from whatever lures us (fame, beauty, health, business, fortune, travel, investments, politics, a new hustle, etc). The algorithm k

My junior year of high school I told my guidance counselor that I wanted to be a “photojournalist”. I didn’t know what a photojournalist was, but I loved writing, and I loved taking pictures, so it sounded perfect. Once I realized what a photojournalist did, I quickly re-routed and became a nutrition major (which also didn’t stick once the science became math ..the kind with letters). But anyway, I recently told my husband about my photojournalism aspirations, and he literal