Bellingham Editorial Art Project by Amanda Powell

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Who Fears Death?

What, when we breath our last?

What becomes of the processes, the structure, the feelings, the thoughts, in the end?

Did our actions matter? How we held ourselves? Who we loved? What we created?

Thoughts on the uncertainties of being human.


(I have an art series in the works which will take some time and effort to complete. These images are extra from the initial shoot for that project. THANKS to my model Becky and hairstylist Areca for helping me get the first part created. I can’t wait to share.)

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Senior Session at Fairhaven and Boulevard Park by Amanda Powell

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This is Kierra.

Graceful, funny, kind, passionate.

A virtuous young woman, with a full heart.

She is patient and creative, and has the spark so many children find endearing. I first witnessed this when I met her at my daughter’s school, after she spent time playing with many of the kids. Kierra is studying special education, which has blossomed from a love of working with kids, and a deep care for her family and their specific experiences.

I AM thankful people like her exist, young folks with the desire to help others. A next generation of caring souls to keep us all moving forward. We need them, and her.

<3 <3 <3 <3

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Three Sweet Kids by Amanda Powell

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Strong personality exists in this space.

Unpredictable dancing.

Uncontrollable laughing.

Tears and conflict that ebb and flow.

But always

We look out for each other.

Siblings are something special.


A fun, quick, traditional portrait session in a field in Bellingham, with these three lovely kids again. <3

As they grow, this trio continues to be a joy. They are a lively bunch, still funny, still happy, and still willing to have me photograph them, with plenty of breaks for hugs and sweet conversation.

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Spring Family Session at Memorial Park by Amanda Powell

Hold on to me

enjoy the ride

we spin and fall

and run and rise.

I’ll be here with you

but know.

I’m working on the art of letting go.

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A nice day for a quick session at Memorial park with Felicia and family. Felicia is a fellow Bellingham photographer, and friend, find more of her here. https://feliciamarie.us

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365- The End by Amanda Powell

December 

Your lively tones keep me from acknowledging the end of so many things.

They distract from the proximity of another year gone, and also people gone too soon. 

Moments frozen, but still fleeting. Things I try to hold on to, but fully understand the inevitable leaving. The good, bad, everything is rooted in this temporary ground of being.

Temporary. It’s a word understood regretfully, bittersweet and hammered home at 11:59 every December 31st.

I spend the colors of December trying to keep it all close, this life and the frames I’ve seen throughout the year. I cling to the rituals our family has and avoid the rushing as much as possible. We ask ourselves were the time goes, and one complicated answer is, it gets lost in the ceaseless movement, the list of must, should, and want to. And things end, and things begin, and the cycle goes at a speed none of us can fully comprehend.

2018 was a contemplative year, one of figuring out the reality of things.

Thanks for sticking around to see the end.

365-Month Eleven by Amanda Powell

Our Month

A tour of the South, Alabama, Tennessee, and Kentucky.

Feildtrips, Outdoors, and Fall Color.

Nearing the end of so many things.

Hopeful that an end brings something new, and not just finality.

Uncertainty, but solidarity through it all with early morning conversations about things outside of us that matter. Conversations about how we matter.

Wading through this idea of life,

what it means,

what’s important,

and why we do the things we choose to do.

November, a month to move, to reflect, and brace for celebration, as the end of the year softly and swiftly approaches.

365- Month Ten by Amanda Powell

October

“It’s as if you see the world through dark glasses, so naturally everything seems dark. But if that is the case, instead of lamenting about the world’s darkness, you could just remove the glasses. Perhaps the world will appear terribly bright to you then and you will involuntarily shut your eyes. Maybe you’ll want the glasses back on, but can you even take them off in the first place? Can you look directly at the world? Do you have the courage?”

-Ichiro Kishmi & Fumitake Koga

The Courage to Be Disliked

Reading this book right now. I have a feeling it’s going to be a top one for me in 2019.

Enjoy this October recap!

Orcas Island by Amanda Powell

In October we took a trip to commemorate our 10 year anniversary, which was in April, which is finally being blogged in January. Confused yet? The jist is, after 3 years of regular life, we finally took a vacation.

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Bryan and I have been married 10 years, together 12. It was and is a great reason to go somewhere different, which turned out to be only 30 miles away (if you were a bird)- Orcas Island. It’s a land mass we’ve seen across the bay for the last 3 years, but never ventured to. Tons of photos in this post; be ye warned :-)

We had a marvelous time, doing a whole lot of nothing. We cooked meals, played checkers, beach combed, watched movies, and read books. So, I suppose we didn’t do “nothing.” But given our schedule for the last three years, it felt that way. It was magnificent.

I’m thankful for my time with my husband. I’m fortunate to have married my (still) best friend, and while no relationship is without its strife, I wouldn’t change it. A life with someone who stays, helps the healing from life’s inevitable wounds, knows how to laugh, and isn’t afraid to talk politics, existentialism, or simulation theory before 7am (even when I am), is a treasure.

Coming Home

By Mary Oliver

When we are driving in the dark,

on the long road to Provincetown,

when we are weary,

when the buildings and the scrub pines lose their familiar look,

I imagine us rising from the speeding car.

I imagine us seeing everything from another place–

the top of one of the pale dunes, or the deep and nameless

fields of the sea.

And what we see is a world that cannot cherish us,

but which we cherish.

And what we see is our life moving like that

along the dark edges of everything,

headlights sweeping the blackness,

believing in a thousand fragile and unprovable things.

Looking out for sorrow,

slowing down for happiness,

making all the right turns

right down to the thumping barriers to the sea,

the swirling waves,

the narrow streets, the houses,

the past, the future,

the doorway that belongs

to you and me.

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Gripping this little daredevil for dear life. >>>>>>>>>

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