Pictures came in a few days ago, my copies from our photo shoot in Atlanta. Browsing the photos, I marvel at the women in my life. I love who they are, who I am with them. I cannot fathom a life they aren’t a part of. What scary, unknown thing I would be without them as the boundaries of me.
A few to share…
Planning something cool here, you can tell from our enthusiastic profiles:
So warehouse chic, wouldn’t you agree?:
I could scoop them up and put them in my pocket:
We all have colorful backgrounds (ha):
I’m such an overachiever when it comes to jumping:
There are more, 150 more to be exact. And each one is wonderful. There are goofy ones, a few bad angles, some I wish I had sucked it in or something, but I love every single one of them. Because that’s who we are right now, right in this moment. There are laugh lines, sweet baby bellies (one anyway), strands of gray, a million little things that maybe we wouldn’t mind photoshopped out. But, I am stubborn. I cling to them, those little flaws or imperfections, because it’s what else is in these pictures that is truly memorable.
there is love, and joy, and trueness.
there is the connection, so real and tangible that I’m surprised it didn’t show up on film as cords between us.
I love these girls, all of them. They are beautiful in that way that surpasses measuring.
If I ever forget these days, (which I couldn’t)
and if I ever forget their ways, (which I wouldn’t),
I will have these photos to remind me. Thank you, Brittany. It was brilliant.
All for tonight. Heart is full and sleepy.