"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse.

I'm a few days late .. but last year, at this time, I was on cloud nine probably fast asleep by a beautiful pool in Hawaii. This year has been a big one for us ... preparing for the future in so many ways and taking leaps as a team we never thought we could. Having been with Tim for almost 9 years now, being married does not feel much different than not being married- except that now, in my heart and on paper, he is my family. I am a lucky girl to have married my best friend and to have a true and honest partner in all that life brings. There were many things this year that I could not have accomplished or tackled without him and I am proud of us for many of the decisions we made as a team.

During our ceremony, Tim's mom read a passage from one of my favorite childhood books, The Velveteen Rabbit. As years of marriage begin to disappear behind us, I am so thankful that I am with a man who will love me when most of my hair has been loved off, and my eyes drop out and I get all loose in the joints and very shabby.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but Really loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get all loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

Love you. Thank you for making me real. :)

jasmine*

A modern wedding at Thomas Fogarty Winery in Woodside, CA : Lisa and Hans

Lisa and Hans are too cute for words ... Their love really melts my heart and their wedding was just a perfect summer day up at Fogarty Winery in Woodside. Coordinated by one of my favorite ladies, Janece Shellooe of Every Elegant Detail, it was no surprise that their day went off without a hitch. I'll never forget during dinner turning around to a little tap on my shoulder and hearing Lisa's little voice softly ask, "Can we go take more pictures..?" :) She needed a break from the whirlwind of the day and I was more than happy to oblige. Give me ample time to let creativity flow (and time to hike down a hill in your photographers flats) and you'll find images like this one below in your gallery :)

I am sorry for the long delay on posting these images you two, it's been a busy blog-free summer but I want to thank you for being so inspiring and for your complete trust in my ability to document you love. xoxo

Cake: Studio Cake Catering: Thomas John Events Coordinator: Every Elegant Detail DJ/Band: Big Fun DJ Florist: Amy Burke Designs Make-up and Hair: Hair Day Music: Nob Hill Strings Officiant: John Sullivan Paper Goods: Hello Lucky

I wonder why the grass is green and why the wind is never seen?

Hope you all had a wonderful, fun, and safe Halloween! Happy candy eating. :) I wanted to take a moment to announce that I have a very limited amount of weekday  family session openings left for this holiday season. After Thanksgiving my camera is going into professional hibernation until January so book your session while you can! 
I wonder why the grass is green,
And why the wind is never seen?
Who taught the birds to build a nest,
And told the trees to take a rest?
O, when the moon is not quite round,
Where can the missing bit be found?
Who lights the stars, when they blow out,
And makes the lightning flash about?
Who paints the rainbow in the sky,
And hangs the fluffy clouds so high?
Why is it now, do you suppose,
That Dad won’t tell me, if he knows?