I’m writing this post because I never want to forget. I never want to forget that hole in the wall that I had to cover up every time a client a came over. I never want to forget the light that poured into those windows or how I had to angle the blinds to the perfect degree in order to make sure the room didn’t get too hot midday. I never want to forget that tight corner in which my desk sat, where I spent countless hours pouring over images that people will be looking at for generations to come. I never want to forget those shelves that my dad built for me which made the room look much more like a home, or a place that I could welcome people to. I never want to forget the sounds of sirens blaring, at which point I would talk a little louder or laugh a little harder, in hopes that the client sitting across from me wouldn’t remember they they came to meet me in a pretty ghetto part of Hartford. I never want to forget because it was here, in this room, where my dreams and business were built.
From the day I decided to go full time with photography, I’ve been dreaming of a gorgeous studio. Maybe on Main Street, or maybe in a separate part of my own home…either way, I’ve been dreaming of the light, the smells, the sounds, and the people that would fill it. But most big dreams have small starts, and mine was no exception. I had two options when I started my business: to meet people at Starbucks, or in my own home. I decided that, at all costs (including my pride), I wanted to have that personal touch with every client and it started from the first meeting, so my home would be the place where I met. My own home consisted of a tiny 1bd apartment where my living room and client meeting area were one and the same. My desk also sat in there, nudged closely next to my couch. When I did a newborn shoot, I would push the couch and coffee table aside to make a bit more room. And I’ve had more women than I can count lay across my bed because my tiny bedroom doubled as a boudoir studio. Small start, indeed. But one that built character in me and helped me find the right clients who believed in me and my vision, not just in a fancy schmancy studio.
And so I write this post because, although I still dream of bigger and better, I’m slowly working my way up there. I may only be moving one door over, but it will give me the space I need for right now, almost double the space of that first apartment of mine. The space to take this business that has resulted from my blood, sweat and tears to the next level. This business that is every bit a part of me as I am of it. And I never want to forget where it all started. Because someday, whether on Main Street or some gorgeous home in Colorado, I’ll look back at these pictures and remember that it’s not about the space you have or the size of your studio, but it’s about the love that fills it. It’s not about focusing on what you don’t have, but making it work with what you do have. Being grateful for where you’re at, all the while dreaming of bigger and better. And because my dreams are big, I never want to forget where I started.