Life Wrapped In Lace

I'm not who you think I am.....anymore.

2018-04-12T08:02:00.001-07:00

I’m not who you think I am. As a matter of fact, I am at a pivotal time in my life where I’m trying to figure out exactly who that person is. When once I had it all figured out, I find myself in an identity crisis, asking myself what exactly defines me now that I am no longer a wife? A photographer? Even that crutch, which once offered me security and self worth, has become a quicky evolving field to which, at times, I find myself wondering if I even have anything in common with my 20 year old brides anymore? Am I still relevant? If I don’t book 40 weddings per year, and make a crazy amount of cash, does that make my self stock plummet?

Sometimes, when you’re on a quest to figure out who you are, you find yourself, through the process of discovering who you are NOT that in actuality you may be closer to self discovery than you may think.

Do things that scare you, they say. Outside of your comfort zone. Well, I did that. I moved to Toronto at a young age by myself. I left a marriage I wasn’t satisfied with, with not a clue how I was going to move forward. I quit my day job to start my own company. All of those things lasted a decade, each. Toronto. Entrepreneurship. Marriage. But alas, do we have to continue to do things that scare us, when at the age of 40, we know ourselves better than we ever have? Must we lie to ourselves in order to live an “epic” life that others will respectfully nod to?

When I flew to Bali with not a clue of the 30 + hours of travel nor the culture shock, and an introvert spending 10 days, sunrise to sunset with a group of strangers, talking about our feelings, I literally cried the first day I got there. I couldn’t have felt further from home. When I look back on the trip, I am proud of myself for surviving and blending in. By the end, I just wanted the comfort of home. Of quiet. Of familiar. I’ve never been one to travel alone…in actual fact I’ve never done it and oddly enough, the person who wants to spend so much time in solitude, has no desire to hop on trains, planes and automobiles and navigate the world solo.

When presented with an opportunity to shoot in Europe, my first instinct was how fabulous that would look on my portfolio. When reality set in and sheer panic of how I would really feel in a foreign country alone sunk in, I knew what my decision was. I must be crazy right? Not the bad ass boss babe I’ve made myself out to be, who by the way, shits her pants (not literally), in fear before every single wedding. Still.

I was asked to speak several times at a local college to a bunch of photography students. Next to travelling alone, I think public speaking has got to be one of my worst nightmares. I must do it, I thought to myself. I must give back. It’s easier to hide than seek. But then I asked myself, why? Why must I do something that causes me so much stress? Haven’t we spent our entire lives doing things we are told we have to do? Isn’t there a point of freedom where we, as self aware and independent adults can do what feels right in our gut and soul? Even if it means, losing our "edge"? There is freedom in living an authentically honest life. Trust me on this. It's like a weight that is lifted when you stop adorning a mask. A facade. And own who you are. All of it.

It’s an interesting time, this time after divorce and in a new relationship. In transition of business and pleasure and the distinction of what actually serves me and what most certainly, does not. I’m still not sure of where I’m going or what this next chapter brings, but there is comfort in admitting that I am not the same person I once was, I will never be the person I sometimes want to be and that I need to be okay with exactly where I am. Even if that conclusion has me less cool than the version of myself I’ve presented up to now. Choosing Disney with the kids as opposed to amazing Barcelona is a choice I never ever thought I would even consider, never mind think twice about. But alas, I guess that’s part of the process. Living an authentic life and choosing what you KNOW will satisfy your soul…as opposed to the persona you’ve put out to the world. Even if it means wearing less than cool mouse ears while doing it. I hope you still love me, just the way I am.

Love, Wendy

What's it all worth?

2018-01-24T08:27:00.001-08:00

The things I thought I wanted at 30 years old, I find myself at almost 42, not desiring. Popularity. Success. Money. Status. The in crowd.

I find myself at a crossroads. As the gap in age widens between myself and my very young brides, I have to reevaluate my plans, my goals, my future.

Where I find myself noticing trends, and a brief sense of panic trickles in, I take a step back and ask myself, what does all this mean? When your ego is screaming "protect me", your logic must tell you that whatever you are feeling in this particular moment, will not matter in 5 minutes, 5 months or 5 years. If it will matter, it is worth exploring.

In order to gain "likes" on social media, various strategies are used. Buying them. Bribing them. Or trading random comments on thousands of posts where when you scratch someone else's back, they scratch yours. Do you know what I recently realized in my adulthood? The more comments and followers, the more time spent away from family and friends staring at an already overused screen. The followers are an arbitrary number...but are they friends? Are they offering a paycheque in order for the service you are offering? Is it creating a false sense of importance, popularity or value? What's it all worth?

I was at a bar this past weekend celebrating a good friend's birthday. A couple of random women approached me individually to tell me they love my Instagram account. They have followed my #wordsfromwendy since my Life Wrapped in Lace blog started 11 years ago. Writing transpired into photography and I then discovered the two went hand in hand. Never did I think I would be recognized in a crowd for my truth. Truth that is sometimes criticized by others, so closely guarding their privacy and so desperate for others to think their lives are so perfect. Hashtag #blessed. Hashtag #mylifeisbetterthanyours #onfleek The truth is, we attract those who are likeminded. Bitches attract bitches. Bosses attract bosses. You catch my drift. Find your tribe.

I've been asked to speak to a bunch of budding photographers at a local College. I sit and think about the content I would share...the journey they will embark on, the challenges they will face in the industry, the naysayers, the critics, the victories, the ones who steal your ideas, the successes, the constant learning and constant quest for being creative, different, relevant. Are they willing to eat the shit sandwich? What this means is in Elizabeth Gilbert's "Big Magic", she discusses how every career has their share of downfalls. If you love something enough, and are willing to put in the overtime hours as a lawyer, the summer planning as a teacher and in my case, the rejection as an artist and the years of evolution and learning, and take the shit with the passion, then it's your destiny. Not willing to eat the shit sandwich? You won't last long.

As I sit and reflect back on the past decade of life and career, I realize that it's completely okay to not follow the crowd. To find your own definition of success. To change your M.O. from ten years ago or hell, even to change your mantra from yesterday. To carve out your own niche. To do your own thing. To break the rules. We are constantly growing and learning.

It's funny how when, I once craved approval and belonging, at middle age you simply just find your own way. Do your own thing. Sure, your childhood fears still creep in from time to time and scream at you. But you need to deafen those doubts. Feelings aren't real. They are a trick to the mind. And finally, a few quotes from the amazing Elizabeth Gilbert and my new favourite read Big Magic.

“Recognizing that people's reactions don't belong to you is the only sane way to create. If people enjoy what you've created, terrific. If people ignore what you've created, too bad. If people misunderstand what you've created, don't sweat it. And what if people absolutely hate what you've created? What if people attack you with savage vitriol, and insult your intelligence, and malign your motives, and drag your good name through the mud? Just smile sweetly and suggest - as politely as you possibly can - that they go make their own fucking art. Then stubbornly continue making yours.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

“She said: “We all spend our twenties and thirties trying so hard to be perfect, because we’re so worried about what people will think of us. Then we get into our forties and fifties, and we finally start to be free, because we decide that we don’t give a damn what anyone thinks of us. But you won’t be completely free until you reach your sixties and seventies, when you finally realize this liberating truth—nobody was ever thinking about you, anyhow.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

I think I just wrote my notes for my speaking engagement that I told myself I could not and would not do. And maybe a few slides from the book I've been working on. Funny, this life shit.

Hilarious at times.

Love, Wendy

If Christmas were like Tapas

2017-12-26T08:07:00.001-08:00

I find myself reflecting after this mad, crazy year. Last night; the eve that represents so much....love, faith, magic, joy, family...I fell flat on my face in sheer exhaustion. It's been a wild year of personal change and professional madness. I sold my beautiful marital home which took me well over a year to stop flip flopping on the decision to stay or sell. In a market that was about to cool off, we made the right decision and left the city we built our life in for the past 7 years. A decade together, meeting at the end of my 20's and separating on the heels of my 40's.

I remember looking at the rental units available and having a total meltdown at what was out there. The uncertainty of it all...would I be able to afford it all on my own? Would I ever find something that I loved as much as my home? Would I be stuck in a basement apartment with noise above me? Would they allow animals? Would there be enough space? A backyard option so I didn't feel stuck in a concrete jungle? I felt like I was going backwards, sideways and every other direction but forward. Here I was at 40, starting all over again. Experiencing the electronic dating pool of damaged 40 something year olds who all had their own baggage, dependents and scars.

I went to Jamaica for a week with my best friend whom I had lost touch with for over a decade. We had never travelled together even at the height of our solid friendship, nevermind during the rebuild of trust and time lost. We got robbed while down there shooting a wedding, and I was distracted with the sale of our house and all that was happening thousands of miles back home, all beyond my control.

When the unit came up on the water in Stoney Creek, I drove down on the coldest, snowiest blustery day with cash in hand. Recalling what my mom said: "You're like a dog with a bone when you want something." I knew I wanted to live on the water...the calm of water has always soothed this mermaid's soul and I suspected it would take some of the deep sting out of my failed marriage, sold home and uprooted life. It was much more than I thought I could afford, and definitely not a wise investment. But alas, I knew it was the "one" when I walked in. Some people call renting a waste of money...I prefer to see it as trading my money for a place to live that makes me feel safe and at peace. How could that possibly be viewed as a waste?

Finding a man I was serious about was the last thing on my radar. I had dated a few since the separation with my husband and nothing seemed to work out, although I must say that the order in which I met these people was surely no accident. One made me laugh again. Another had kids but was not yet divorced. Another separated but still living under the same roof with the ex.This was a whole new world that I wasn't exposed to in my 20's. But I do believe that the sequence in which I met these people prepared me for the man that I met in April, fully divorced, dealt with the emotions that come with that, 2 kids part time. It seemed that the other scenarios were serendipitous in the sense that I had to experience them to ease me into a blended family.

I've been known to make impulsive decisions and that was the case with the Bali trip. I had just got broken up with at the airport, the night I flew back in from Jamaica and was trying to understand it all when a friend mentioned there was one more spot left for a Bali yoga retreat. I literally transferred over the funds, with not a clue in the world of how far on the other side of this planet Bali was located. I had proceeds from the sale of our home and wasn't planning on blowing it, but somehow after all the change that had taken place, my heart shouted that I must visit the very place written about and visited by one of my favourite authors during her marital demise.

Bali was life changing for so many reasons, but that's a different blog for a different day. I don't even believe I've processed all the beauty and serene moments that trip had to offer. I just know that I was very far away from any comfort that I'd built for myself. I wasn't a yogi, a vegan or world traveller who could easily adapt to the missing luxuries from home. I couldn't get in my car and flee in discomfort when the agenda called for the entire group to spend morning, noon, and night together reflecting, sharing and quite frankly, not having any of my so desperately needed alone time. But the true test of a survivor is to adapt or die. Some of the group went to Bali to get over past relationships or demons. I believe I did that in my hometown, albeit with the help of some very strong alcoholic beverages on some occasions. But I did find a way to honour my internal self, what I needed, to say no when everyone else said yes and to not feel bad about it. If it took going to the other side of the world with strangers to get to that point, it was worth it. The beaches and temples and countryside and rice fields also made a postcard backdrop to the self awareness discovered...and of course, I had my camera to document it all.

I arrived home and dove right into the relationship I had met two weeks prior to leaving for Bali. I had warned him that I was about to embark on my busy season of my photography career...he thought he understood, but later would admit that he never truly comprehended what time constraints on our relationship that meant. I mean, most people who run a business have a team. I am the only one who can do the communication, shooting, editing, accounting, technical issues, training, marketing, putting out fires and planning. It's just me. Who else is going to do it? We ebbed and flowed through the nuances of dating...personality differences, past tendencies, commuting from different cities, shift work, and then we booked a week long trip to Aruba. Once we realized we enjoyed the week together, we jointly decided that we were going to give this thing a full shot.

We met each other's parents, his children, friends and I took on the very careful and delicate dance of "dad's girlfriend/step parent". A fine line between ensuring that the kids feel comfortable and like me, as well as not letting them defiantly try to test my kindness and role. It's such a critical and cautious time in their lives because I know, as I grew up in a blended family, that the second they know they can pit us against each other, or smell the fear, I'm doomed.

We were three months sick with bronchitis, literally knocked down for the count in my busiest season I've had in 8 years. Weddings, shoots, editing and 127 mini sessions that I somehow pulled off. Trying to stay relevant in a young person's world, where everyone is a photographer and people looking for quantity, not quality. His shift work, lack of sleep, constantly packing a bag, commuting back and forth, and BAM, somehow it was Thanksgiving, Christmas and coordinating the logistics between ex wife, her family, new boyfriend, his family, my side, his huge Italian family, event after event and I digress, I just am emotionally spent. Last night with tear soaked eyes I looked him in the eyes...and he said so matter-of-factly after listing all the things that had gone on this year..."You don't think this will get easier? You're fucking right it will." I hope he's right.

An introvert living in an extrovert's world...somehow I've managed to juggle it all and try to make everyone happy, but it never seems "good enough." If I show up for 3 hours, it's like why didn't you stay all night. I wish people would understand...the 3 hours to me is a lot as it is...it's not that I don't want to be there, and in most cases I love to...it's just event after event after event with no time in between is like someone putting a bag over my head and suffocating me. I literally feel I can't breathe.

If Christmas were like Tapas, we could dabble a bit, have a bit of a break, on to the next event or group of people, have a bit of a breather, get up, walk around, get some air, sample some different personalities in doses, and if you don't like it, move on to the next thing on the menu.

But alas, here we are, the day after the busiest holiday...after all the beautiful photos posted, gifts opened, family issues avoided or in some cases full eruption, ending off the year in reflection...in most cases, full hearts, bellies, empty bank accounts and wondering where in the hell the time went and how it all happened so fast.

I myself am not one to make new years resolutions...I tend to want to break commitments the second I agree to it. But I do know that I'm going to work smarter not harder, take time to read again, to say no when it feels impossible, despite the guilt...and to also say yes, even when I want to say no, to the things that are important. Sometimes we have to do the things we don't want to do...but sometimes you have to find the balance. If you are giving 10% to everyone instead of 100% to a select few, you're no good to anybody.

Au contraire, with a grateful moment to myself to do the thing that has lacked for a couple of years now, write, I hope you all end off 2017 with lessons learned, excitement for what's to come and a little bit of time for yourself.

As for me, I'll take a few pieces of Bellavitano merlot cheese, a handful of cashews and a glass of vino tinto and enjoy my tapas filled day of solitude. In the quiet. Just how I like it :)

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Love always,

Wendy xo

Who's the bigger asshole?

2016-05-14T13:09:00.002-07:00

We are currently residing in strange times. It's a world where the person who cares less, maintains all the power. Fuck being kind and loving and telling the truth and being honest. No. The trick is to show no mercy, no feelings, and absolutely, under no circumstance, shall any fucks be given.

In a commitment-phobe world where the online options seem endless, we've adopted a callous and disposable way of thinking about relationships. How we treat them, how we choose to honour or (dis)honour an ending, how nothing is ever good enough and how there's always the next best thing. The options are endless, like a smorgasbord of menu items and instead of your tummy being filled at an all you can eat buffet, our egos are never satisfied. The lines between reality and fantasy become blurred and the grass always seems greener on the other side. Except it never is. That rush of blood to the head dopamine that you feel when with the shiny and new partner, friend, thing, wears off quickly after the dark restaurants and romantic dates meld into real life and suddenly, the toilet seat is left up, real personalities are revealed and you're just stuck with someone else's ex, and all their problems and a bunch of shiny shit to fill your house that you don't really want or need.

I had a conversation with someone once very dear to me today about the demise of her relationship and how they both came to realize that the crux of the matter was during the height of their indulgence. A time when they had more money, more properties, better cars, and a flashier lifestyle. This was supposed to be everything they ever wanted.

Interesting thought, isn't it? Be seriously aware of what you wish for.

These are some considerably unsettling times. The word sorry seems to come in strange formats and seems to hold the connotation of shame and weakness. Sorry is rarely said. And in some cases, even if it is, does that make the initial hurt any better? Because someone had little to no regard for your feelings and later realizes or regrets it? Or what if they don't actually utter those words? What if you hear through the grapevine that someone is asking about you? Or your gaze meets theirs, and you can just tell by that old familiar look that there's an unspoken panging?

There's no shame in missing someone. And yet in modern day relationships, if there's a fallout, you don't dare be the first to ever admit such a thing. And if you do, and there's no response on the other end, you'll find a way to retract it. To try to erase it. To win. To have the power. To be the bigger asshole and care the least and to be the non affected human. If that's winning, then fuck it. I'll be the biggest loser.

We've all had fallouts where we've been the asshole, or to have been affected by an asshole. Personally, I can't sleep at night if I feel I've intentionally hurt someone. I just can't. I need to say my piece. Unfortunately, this always hasn't been the case for me. There's been years that have passed with an apology I've never received and it destroys the soul if you wait for it, because sometimes it will never happen. Because there's three sides to every story: yours, theirs and the truth. And then there are the moments that blow your mind, after years of wondering where things went wrong, and you find the answer. And things come full circle. And if it's real, you'll pick back up where you started, treading very very carefully of course and with a new and enlightened mindset.

And sometimes you just have to let it all go. Learn a lesson. Move on. Heal. Grow. Forgive. Or maybe not forgive. Maybe they don't deserve your forgiveness. Sometimes they aren't sorry. They simply don't care and probably never did. They played games with your heart. Let me be clear about this: anyone who plays games with your heart does not love you. Love is not mind games. Or pain. Or drama. Or unkindness. Don't pine for someone like this, but don't wish them harm either. Back away. Know better next time. Be cautious yes, but always, go forth with a whole lot of heart and soul.

Trust takes years to build, seconds to break and forever to repair. Act accordingly.

Love,

Wendy

Choosing my confessions

2016-03-01T07:22:00.001-08:00

I wouldn't say I'm religious, per se. I've always had some belief of a higher power, said my prayers in thanks and gratitude, not just when I'm asking for something and on occasion, gone to church.

Never one for commitment or sticking to routine, I was quite surprised to find a newfound love. A few times a week, I walk into the heated studio, breathe in the warm air and energy of those surrounding me, lay my mat down and bow my head in gratitude. Yoga is my new religion.

I may not be able to control the things that happen, or the constant thoughts that enter my mind, but for one hour a day, even when in that complicated head of mine, ideas and thoughts flit to and fro, I have committed myself to practice. They call it practice because it's exactly that; it is not easy to train your brain to turn everything off, to find your balance in body poses, to remember to focus on your breath and the present moment. It's an added bonus that it seems everyone who'd been doing yoga for years has a rockin' body and an even better attitude of gratitude.

In stark contrast to when I seemed to be losing my religion last year, by turning to darkness, drinking, partying, solitude, negativity, Yoga seems to encompass all things love and light. The mind and body connection seem to go hand in hand with the books I'm reading, my outlook on life and a higher state of consciousness.

It seems we are living in strange times that condition us to believe that external factors will fulfill a deep longing within for "something more." A material thing. To win. To have affections and attention romantically. To be the best. Most of the time, however, we find ourselves striving toward that which always seems to lie just beyond our reach. We are caught up in doing, rather than being, in yearning rather than awareness. It is difficult for us to picture a state of complete calmness and yet, in the quiet we reach a level of inner peace impossible to attain through outside means.

I won't be one of those ones who preach my newfound God. Or to get caught up in the cute name brand apparel that retails for ridiculous amounts of money to wear and be trendy. But I will say that when I enter that room, with likeminded bodies and souls around me, all sharing their energy and striving for the same purpose, I do feel like home. I feel right, good and at peace. I've practiced pilates and higher thinking for years, but never stuck to it.

I have a girlfriend who has been urging me to try this lifestyle for many years now. I often would chide her for being all hippie-like with her perceived witchery trickery hocus pocus hooplah. I now join her and likeminded friends for Yoga and we don't say a word to each other but are all there for the same purpose. It's not an instant or easy thing, changing your thinking. But when you really try, there is a definite shift. A shift maybe only noticeable to the very trained eye. But nevertheless, a shift. A shift in perspective, in conscious thinking and in being.

It's a good feeling. I would say Namaste, but that feels a little too cliche for a novice like me.

So for now, I'll leave you with, Peace.

On your terms

2016-02-08T10:42:00.001-08:00

I've learned that you cannot make someone love you or care for you. Furthermore, you can't force people to feel for you or behave in the way that you do, would or expect.

When you let expectations go and accept people and situations for what they are, you save yourself so much heartache. Don't wish bad on anyone and just because a relationship didn't work out, you can still silently cheer them on in your own head.

Sometimes, things don't work. Shit falls apart. And you have to let it go. It is simply unhealthy, wasted time to have expectations because you will be constantly disappointed. I find myself wondering why people are the way they are. I ask myself why someone would do something cruel or behave in a certain way when I would never think to act like that. This does not mean that I am right or they are wrong; but simply that we are different.

Differences can make or break a relationship. They can compliment each other or tear you apart. If you can't see eye to eye, constantly have fallouts or feel like you're talking to a brick wall, it may be time to walk. It doesn't mean you have to have a blow out fight, retaliate or be nasty. Sometimes two people love each other and yet, sometimes love is not enough to sustain a relationship. And that's okay. Acknowledge the love, the memories, the lessons you have learned, and move on.

Close the chapter, surrender to however you feel, really feel the sting of it if you have to, use that pain to create something, art, writings, a plan, anything. Don't pretend to not care. What's the use in that? The Universe knows when you are lying to yourself. You're not truly over it until you're over it. And then there's no need to pretend anything. Because, you just are. And above all, don't give up. Just because it didn't work, does not mean that you won't find someone who will get you. Who will compliment your soul. Where things are easy breezy and not always on someone else's terms.

Move forward, yes, heed warning to love cautiously, with the lessons learned in your back pocket and an open mind and heart. And do so on your terms.

Love madly, always with a full heart....even if you once found that same heart bruised or broken.

Find the courage and hope to put the pieces back together again. You've got to find a tribe who loves like you do. Or it's not going to work. Like, ever. Some of us love harder, deeper and genuinely feel more. We all cope differently. Some of us are fragile and it takes us time to heal.

Don't be bitter. Smile because it once was.

Love always,

Wendy xo

Living the life of Riley

2015-12-27T10:20:00.000-08:00

I agreed to condo-sit in midtown Toronto, for a friend who would be going away for a couple of months. The deal was, I would take care of his dog, and in return get a space to myself to catch up on work, edit and try and get my writing mojo back. At the last minute, I asked if he could bring the dog to his dad's house while I stayed alone. Afterall, at home I have responsibility, duties to walk my own mutt, clean up after it etc and I didn't feel too pumped about minding someone else's pooch.

"I'm starting to feel like this isn't going to work out." The deal was with Riley. I obliged.

Panic stricken, I pulled into the condo feeling that familiar anxiety that creeps in when change presents itself to me. Where do I park? How do I operate this fob key? Where will I get my morning coffee? How do I work this convection oven?

"What happened to you?" my friend asked, almost puzzled. "It's like moving to the sticks has made you completely unconfident in how to do things."

He wasn't wrong. Besides, I was reminded at any time that I could go home. I wasn't stuck here. But I didn't want to go home when scared. I wanted to stick it out. With grit and determination and proving to myself that I could do it solo. And Riley was the perfect excuse to not be able to pack it in when things felt slightly uncomfortable. Do things that scare you. Trust me. There's no other satisfaction like it.

It's a strange feeling being taken care of but wanting your own autonomy to do things independently. After I got locked into the parking garage (my spot is 25 winding turns to the destination) and got honked at and yelled at by a resident, I got my inner guts back. I opened the car door, walked up to his car, tapped on the window and in Carrie Bradshaw fashion yelled "You're SOOOO Busy!"

He then apologized and showed me what I was doing wrong, to the detriment of the lined up cars behind us trying to get out of the retail parking they paid for.

That felt good.

I then hesitantly put Riley's leash on. My own dog bites at any given chance and has made me fearful of other dogs. Even though it's owner says it would never turn, you just never know with nature's wild. He looked at me with his big brown eyes and gave my hand a sloppy kiss, as if to let me know that he would cause me no harm.

Riley is three times the size of my dog. He's an Irish wheaten terrier so I half expected him to pull my arm off at the sight of a tree. I walked by the front desk where the security guard started asking questions about the dog. He handed him some treats from behind the desk and I would then find out that he was a Veterinarian back in Iran and performed hundreds of surgeries on smaller animals. He took the security guard job because of the flexibility it allowed him to study to take the equivalency test here.

They say Toronto is unfriendly. Maybe people just need a reason to make eye contact, or a four legged friend to start up conversation. Everyone loves Riley.

Christmas at my parents had me packing the car and bringing the dog in tow. He sat in the front seat like an angel and didn't so much as make a sound. My own dog gets put in a crate for the entirety at our parents because he goes to the washroom in the house and is a complete mental case. Riley pranced in slowly, let everyone get accustomed to him and he didn't leave my side. He was a great comic relief in certain needed moments and really just had love to give. Sometimes there is strength and comfort in quiet and calm. He doesn't say much, but you know he's there.

I can tend to hibernate in this season. Taking care of a dog reminds you that you must get up and take care of them, even if you don't feel like it. It means you don't open your backyard door, because it's a condo so up and down you go whenever he needs to go. I realize that most of you reading this are parents, and that you are probably rolling your eyes at me. But it's important for me to get my sense of responsibility back. To care for something other than myself. My job. My house. My spouse. My own dog won't let me care for him the way I want to.

They say that the grass isn't always greener on the other side...but sometimes it is. Sometimes you have to trust another, even if something in your past has bitten you hard. Afterall, he's giving his trust in me, a total stranger, left and expected to feed and care for it.

I came to Toronto to get inspired by the city. Instead I found it in a dog.

Love is, a four legged word.

xo

Push and pull

2015-05-22T16:48:00.002-07:00

It's been a while, old friend. There's been a lot going on and yet at the same time, a quiet and unfamiliar stagnant. I've packed my past five years so tightly with shoots, meetings, work, editing, training, mentoring and striving to be better than ever, that I realized along the way...I sort of lost myself. I had a huge ass chip on my shoulder and an ode to prove something to the world.

A funny thing happens when you stop living for everyone else and quiet your mind. When you ask yourself what really matters, what really makes your heart soar and at the same time ache. When you question if you're really happy or just kind of comfortable.

I lost my way. I stopped being inspired. I couldn't write. I became uninterested in my craft. I lied to myself. I tricked myself into believing I was happy. Because I didn't allow myself the free time to even doubt that so called life for even a millisecond. If I saw an empty square on my calendar, I almost panicked. What would I do with my free time?

My work became my sole purpose in life. And that my friends, is a dangerous thing. Because like anything, the popularity rises and falls. A new 20 something comes in with bigger dreams, brighter eyes, a bushier tail and better talent. And just as you're riding the crest of success, it can feel that it's all crashing down on you and you're grasping through that swelling wave to catch your breath.

Sometimes, you just have to get away for awhile, alone. To question everything. To answer nothing. To cry your eyes out and not have anyone console you. To jump on your hotel room bed and mess up the perfectly made sheets. To order overpriced room service and drown in a bottle of wine. When even in the depths of your soul, you're not sure what's wrong, sometimes it feels good to take off the tightly adorned mask, and just let all the monkeys roll the fuck off your back.

"You're grey alright", I had a friend of a friend say to me in a discussion about personalities. "She's push and pull", the longtime male friend said to the handful of people in our presence.

Definition:

Push-Pull - A chronic pattern of sabotaging and re-establishing closeness in a relationship without appropriate cause or reason.

So I proceeded to delve into what that exactly meant. And why I'm so 50 shades of fucked up.
And their answer astonished me:

Stop thinking there's something wrong with you. There is nothing wrong with you.

And just like that, I questioned 38 years of my life....could it be in fact that there truly isn't anything tangibly wrong with me? That I constantly analyze every situation so deeply that I ruin living in the moment? That I thrive on drama and pain? That I so badly yearn for an extraordinary life and that automatically has to equate to strife and suffering?

I don't know what it all means. But I'm in an honest place right now. I do know that I had this same feeling five years ago, when I quit my great paying safe job with benefits and leapt in with two feet to a photography business I didn't even know I wanted, nevermind was capable of. And when people called me "brave", I never understood it. Because there was nothing calculated about it. I just went with my heart and let it guide me. I'm doing the same thing today.

I may not be what everyone wants at any given time. That part of me has changed. And I won't apologize for that. But I do know that I'm on a journey to the best chapter of my life. I am here on this Earth to accomplish astounding things. And I hope, even if I cut my hair, swear too much, answer your email a little less quick than breakneck speed or write more honestly, that you'll still love me for what I have to offer.

People change. Things fall apart. Shit happens. But the world keeps going round and round.

Growth and comfort do not co-exist. And things are about to get really uncomfortable. In a really epic way. And not in a way that creates whispers or stories or assumptions. Not in a way you'll even notice. It's a shift of sort, internally. I hope you'll join me on this journey of mine. And in return, I can promise to offer you, a totally better version of myself. With an occasional fuck-up, I'm sure.

Love always,

Wendy

xo

Empty

2015-03-20T20:45:00.002-07:00

She lifts her skirt up to her knees
Walks through the garden rows with her bare feet, laughing
And I never learned to count my blessings
I choose instead to dwell in my disasters

Walk on down the hill
Through grass grown tall and brown
And still it's hard somehow to let go of my pain
On past the busted back
of that old and rusted Cadillac
That sinks into this field collecting rain

Will I always feel this way ‒
So empty, so estranged?

And of these cut-throat busted sunsets,
these cold and damp white mornings
I have grown weary
If through my cracked and dusted dime-store lips
I spoke these words out loud would no one hear me?
Lay your blouse across the chair,
Let fall the flowers from your hair
And kiss me with that country mouth so plain.
Outside the rain is tapping on the leaves
To me it sounds like they're applauding us,
The quiet love we've made.

Will I always feel this way
So empty, so estranged?

Well, I looked my demons in the eyes
laid bare my chest, said "Do your best, destroy me.
You see, I've been to hell and back so many times,
I must admit you kind of bore me."
There's a lot of things that can kill a man
There's a lot of ways to die
Yes, and some already dead that walk beside me
There's a lot of things I don't understand
Why so many people lie
Well, it's the hurt I hide that fuels the fires inside me

Will I always feel this way
So empty, so estranged?

~ Ray Lamontagne ~

When it counts

2015-02-10T16:12:00.001-08:00

For the eyes. For the heart. For the ears. For the feet. For the soul.

It's been about five years since I started this little blog and finally am referencing the above, inspired by a double disk George Michael box set I bought in the 90's. One CD was all slow jams...for the heart, naturally; the other all beats....for the feet.

This got me to thinking about the different types of friendships we have in life.

For the eyes....those that we roll with to public affairs. They make us look good. They know people. We rub elbows with them but certainly would never divulge our deepest secrets.

For the heart....those that make us feel warm and fuzzy. They do nice things like write sweet cards and offer us a feeling of safety and security.

For the ears...we listen to them, or they listen to us. We can sit inside in our comfiest clothes sans makeup or judgement and just pour our hearts out. We can talk about nothing or anything at all.

For the feet.....these friends make us feel happy being around them. They know how to whoop it up, drag our sorry butts out of the cold winter hibernation and make us glad that we did so to hit the dance floor. Double time.

For the soul....we may not see each other often but we always know they are there. Without them a part of us are missing. There's a reason they are the mate to your soul.

I've been privileged to have all sorts of relationships in my life and have learned through age, wisdom and maturity that people don't necessarily have to fit perfectly into one particular compartment. If we don't see eye to eye, it's not the end of the world. It doesn't mean we are finished. If we drift, we may find our way back, we may possibly not. If we are different, we can talk about it and accept each other for our unique personalities. If things change, it's okay. You may have kids and I may not. We may not have the same schedules, interests and activities but that's alright too. We may have lost touch from highschool, university or our workplace; promising to keep in touch and both knowing all the while we won't. You may have insisted your way into my life when I wasn't interested in meeting anyone new, and then left by choice. One chance meeting, email or run-in turned strangers into acquaintances into friends and then maybe strangers again. I have a tendency to attract people in need. I stay with them until they are fixed and eventually, they always leave. It's okay, it's all okay. A purpose was served. Our time is complete. We may never and yet we may still find our way back to each other. Either way, there was a point in our lives when this person served a mutual purpose. Whether it was to get through a God awful class together, to laugh at inside work jokes, to paint the town red in our wild and shameless single years or to share childhood memories together, it all counts. It all matters.

Recently I had a very good friend from highschool ask me what happened to us. We were inseparable, always dressed the same and even got matching tattoos. We sort of drifted but the truth is I thought she didn't care. I always felt a sting of pain when her name was mentioned; almost a waive of shame would wash over me for the failure or rather dissolution of the friendship. I once read in a book about girlfriends....The friend who got away...how odd it is for girlfriends' relationships to fall apart. We are the ones who are supposed to stick together and bash that mother fucker when he cheats on you. And yet it's a strange almost shameful feeling when the relationship fails. Almost an unspoken silence when their name is brought up in a mutual circle of friends. The book is fascinating to me because it tells the story from both sides of each party and you yourself can decide what the truth is. And when something is that painful, does the truth even matter?

While I genuinely feel more than most, my friend genuinely still feels...but in a different way. Her message to me, years later was astonishingly simple: I cared, I just show it differently. But I always cared , Wendy. She quipped that her mother in law often says that she will live until 100 because she can whip up a turkey dinner for 30 and not even break a sweat. And me? Dear God, we know what would happen in that situation. But then it dawned on me....it's really okay to have distinct personalities. We just have to work harder to understand each other.

And just like that I realized that we are all different with the same inherent qualities. We just cope and deal with things differently. We take everything way too personally.

Don't overanalyze relationships to the point that you ruin them. Not everyone is the same as you. If you find yourself thinking "I would never do that..." it's probably because you wouldn't. But is said personality trait a deal breaker? Or is it petty shit that in the long run or during a world crisis you would never even remember? Life is hard enough. We are all in this together and need each other. Stop pretending we don't.

At Christmas I had dinner with my very good friend. I brought a gift bag. She looked at me, knowing the way my brain works. She mused: you brought a gift bag. Because that's what you do. I'm picking up the tab for dinner. Because that's what I do.

And just like that we showed our love for each other differently. I write cards. She writes cheques. But at the end of the day, when it really counts....when life is down and out or you have a sick or ailing child or parent, when life crisis' hits...when it really counts...and you need someone, a sweet card....a shoulder to lean on...a listening ear...a night out to get your mind off things...a soothing hug...who cares what box they fit in or if they were indeed a reason, season or lifetime.

For the eyes. For the heart. For the ears. For the feet. For the soul.

It all counts.

xo

W.

The Measure of a Man

2015-02-08T08:48:00.000-08:00

I came on this trip seeking relaxation but most importantly answers. Answers to questions I've yet to ask myself, let alone seek solutions for. A random televised show brought me an unlikely blog post and a new perspective on life, love and what it means to truly be a man. I've often mused that I was born in the wrong generation; an old soul merely trying to exist and thrive in a new aged world.

Living amongst spoiled brats of generations X,Y and one day Z often finds me shaking my head in frustration, confusion and disbelief and yet the same thing I've come to know and hate is partly responsible for my so called success. I suppose it's like a celebrity's relationship with the media. You can't rise to the top without it but come to loathe it and one day run from it. We live in a generation of self entitled, media whoring spoiled brats. This vacation couldn't have come at a better time. Lately, I've been feeling for lack of better words: stuck. Or something like that. Unsure of my future or place in this world mixed in with trepidation about the world's strife, wars and issues has me losing more hours of sleep than surely healthy. Dialed into CNN more hours than sitcom television surely doesn't help. And then one night, I saw a show that will most certainly change my life. It was about Auschwitz and it's survivors. And suddenly, all those frustrated tears that have been pent up but not dared shed for our pathetic first world problems, opened up like a floodgate.

I'm not sure what exactly I was weeping for, or about. Was it that I had found something so deeply disturbing that I, a spoiled brat of Gen XYZ was finally able to comprehend how truly lucky we really were? Or that such a complete and abhorrent time actually existed in this free world as we know? Whatever the reason, I shut off everything that night and just really for the first time in a long while, sat and absorbed someone's story. No distractions or interjections or thoughts of how I could turn this moment into profit. I just sat still and listened. I transported myself to the 1940's, a time that only 10 years later my mother would be born. It's hard to grasp the fact that the Holocaust ever existed. And when I heard Martin Greenfield's story, I knew that I had so much to learn.

We hopped on board for one of our first non-work related vacations in years. Sure, we travel frequently. But to actually just be present, shut down, tune out and relax was a concept quickly fading foreign. Before we arrived to the airport, I just knew we had to stop at the local bookstore to pick up Martin Greenfield's story. I needed to escape the frivolities of present times. Ironic, considering we had just paid thousands to travel to paradise, but I needed to engulf my mind into something bigger than today's fluff and smut.

Old soul.

We've been spoiled by our clients when travelling to photograph destination weddings. We've been put up in first class, travelled in luxury and when planning our own vacation we can be surprisingly frugal. We opted for a luxury resort but on a budget airline and by dumb bad luck chose our seats in front of probably the three biggest assholes I've come across. If the measure of a man is all that he has been through, accomplished and by the type of character he possesses then these three certainly measure up to two feet tall; combined. I listened to hours of show off, pretense chatter about how three twenty something year olds hide their wealth in offshore investments across the world and away from their wives. They carried on about their 20 year old birthday parties and how they would fly in lobsters and have professional chefs, and impress all their friends. Unwary or caring of surrounding passengers, they dropped the F bomb every three seconds and as the plane trembled and shook during turbulence and passengers white knuckled their travel companions, the 20 year olds joked about the privileges of being Arab and how they were going to bring our plane down. Perhaps if I had tuned into re-runs of Friends more often instead of CNN, I would have been less affected.

To top it all off, they were bragging about all the money they had hidden offshore and million dollar bashes, but stealing all the alcohol and snacks from the plane. To head to an all inclusive resort. Amateurs. My husband always says if you are new at something, at least pretend to play the part. "Act like you've been there before" Or in Martin Greenfield's case, if you can't afford to do something, at least dress the part. A nice suit could change someone's perception of you...or in his case...save his life.

I've found myself frustrated at the barrage of constant questions about the future. I suppose I get annoyed because well, for one, I myself don't have the answers. What will you do about retirement? What about kids? What about Michael's health and benefits? What if the answer is who knows? Who cares? What about our uncertain careers or the drawbacks of self employment? What if it doesn't work out?

What if it does?

Sometimes all it takes is a little perspective. For one man who's hiding offshore funds from his wife, there's another who survived beatings, surrounded by killings and unspeakable acts of inhumanity who, by never giving up working hard and literally dressing and acting the part of a man, saved his life. Martin made himself useful in the Holocaust, never showing signs of weakness or illness. When they forced him to beat his friend, he spaced out the lashings on the body, almost apologetically so as to not permanently injure one part of the youth's back. There was no rhyme or reason to the Nazi killings. They may shoot you if they were happy or if they were mad. The sheer methodical madness of counting over and over and over again the prisoners, the deplorable conditions, the heartless cruelty, would make you wonder how someone could ever go on to lead a normal life, nevermind take the Nazi life lessons and apply them to becoming a top U.S. tailor to celebrities and four presidents.

Life can sure be fascinating.

The measure of a man.

Daily I pester my husband about doing more. Being more. So and so makes this much money. So and so does this for his family. And here we are on vacation celebrating our five year wedding anniversary and discovering new things about each other still. I have someone attentive, loving and willing to do anything to make me happy. Why do I always forget this? Why, when my many moods are off kilter do I automatically shift blame to the one person who would give me the world?

The measure of a man is not what he earns but how he lives his life. As I sit here and reflect on numerous recent struggles, I realize it is not anything specifically wrong. We cannot measure happiness by material things, more stuff, status or superiority. The true measure of a man is what he would do if he knew he would never be caught.

Richard Sherman showed his true colours in the Superbowl. He's always chanting "Nobody beats me" and then handled his loss like the ignorance of a child, not the grace of a man. The Nazi's eventually stole the prisoners uniforms, running and hiding and pretending to be them when they were about to be caught. How does it feel? The Arabs on our plane by some chance were tired and ready to relax on the flight home. By dumb luck again, we found ourselves in the same seats in front of them on the way home. This time they were ready to relax. And those around them were loud. A gentleman introduced himself to us in Mexico as a Toronto photographer but made references to being a Russian spy. I instantly disliked him and his distasteful comments about large women. And yet our Mexican waiter was more than happy to have a job, show us photographs of his curvy wife and beautiful kids and give us a genuine smile. The Russian spy sat at a table alone and we later found out travelled solo because of a recent divorce. The irony of life and karma.

If you want to see the true measure of a man, watch how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.

J.K. Rowling

Shit happens.

2014-05-14T16:02:00.005-07:00

Shit happens man. Things fall apart. People change. People don't change. But I've always said that it doesn't matter what happens in between as long as you can see a purpose in the end result.

It's no secret that I've had my share of drama in life. I'm certainly honest that some of it is my fault. Some of it most certainly was not. Tit for tat. Finger pointing. Who cares? Really in the grand scheme of things, life is short, relationships matter and feuds are petty.

Go climb a mountain and realize how inferior and insignificant we are in the world.

Go to a third world country and realize how first world our problems truly seem.

Hug an old friend and realize that years of silence could be alleviated in a moment.

Fuck it. Fuck your pride. If someone says they're sorry, hear them out. If you have something to say, do so.

What are you waiting for?

We've only got one life to life. And I quite frankly, intend to live it to it's fullest.

Ego, pride and other people's opinions aside.

Why wait until a tragic life event to tell that person what they mean to you? Or alternatively, what they meant to you? Maybe things will never be the same. Maybe one day they'll be better or maybe you'll forget each other altogether.

But at a certain point in time, you meant something to each other. You made memories. You carved out a period in life that belonged to only you. So forget trying to pretend it never happened and acknowledge that:

"True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it be lost."

Love,

Wendy

Round and Round.

2014-03-12T09:02:00.000-07:00

Life is cyclical. Friends come and go. We love and lose and even when we think we can never love again, either someone new comes in our lives, or time passes, wounds heal, and we somehow find ourselves coming full circle with the ones we lost. The difference is, in this passed time, we are better versions of ourselves. The sensitive memories are gone, a cool down has occurred and we can accept our own faults and wrong doings. Or, at least that's the sign of a person with growth.

It has always been true, in my life anyways, that when one door slams shut, immediately several more open. Perhaps those doors have always been open and I have been guilty of haughtily ignoring. How true is the saying "How bold one becomes when sure of being loved." We take for granted those who are always there, and often push aside the "sure thing" for something that is new, exciting or a challenge. It's only at the time when that excitement dies down, or the newness wears off, or the challenge bites us in the ass that we turn to the sure thing for comfort.

"How bold one becomes when sure of being loved."

I am guilty of a lot of things. I cut people off at the slightest sign of mistrust. To me, this is normal behaviour. To others, it's shocking. I make no secrets of the fact that I am a black and white person. There's no middle ground, no grey, no guessing, no games. Earn my trust and I will have your back forever. Scorn me badly and I will never forget how you made me feel. I will forgive you. I will forget. But to never forget how someone makes you feel at that moment, dictates if you can ever move forward, past it and on to a better future.

I always think that when a situation is too perfect, it's doomed to one day blow up. I have always anxiously awaited for the day that a wonderful relationship turns sour. Everyone has their issues. Lovers quarrel. Friends fight. Colleagues disagree. But it's how you move forward from that, discuss true feelings and one day laugh about it that really matters. I always say that who cares what happens in between if you end up together, okay, and fine again.

Who cares about the middle?

Life is funny, things go round and round and relationships come full circle.

It's how you choose to move forward that matters.

It doesn't mean you are weak if you forgive. It doesn't mean that everything will ever be the same. But who wants same when you can seek better in your relationship? Having disagreements lets each other know that you are human. That you care. And at the end of the day, when you know where each other stands, you've come to accept that person for how they are. And even more importantly, respect them as an individual. Because none of us are the same. And why the hell would we want to be?

I've probably had a fight with every single person I've ever been friends with. I'm not proud to say that, but I am definitely in a better place for it. I'm passionate, don't look for trouble but at the same time can't sit quiet and pretend that things don't bother me. I'm far from perfect and a lot of times through this discourse, can sit and listen to the things that bother others about myself. There is truth and strength in critique. There is trust and foundation built on honesty. And a mutual respect when you can, despite it all, still accept someone for who they are. Flaws and all.

Alternatively, there's no point in pretending or being fake or making dates and promises with someone that you don't intend to keep. In your heart you know if something or someone is true. In your gut you know if something is over for good. In your soul, your intuition kicks in when it's over and you think "I knew it! Why didn't I listen to myself?" And that's okay, you've learned from it, moved on, wished said person involved well and continued your journey.

But wait for it. Because even the surest of closures somehow creep back into your life, maybe years later. Maybe you will rekindle. Maybe you'll pass each other in the grocery store and avoid eye contact. Maybe you'll share a knowing smile that the two of you are okay, even if nothing is spoken or no future plans are made to reconnect. It's all okay. It's the way the world works. It goes round and round and round again.

And if you're really lucky, you'll find yourself back in a place of familiarity, of comfort with better versions of yourselves.

Kisses and hugs,

Wendy

Fearless......

2012-02-16T05:43:00.003-08:00

Hey Hey! Below you can find a link to some amazing fearless photographers....here is a link to Ontario's fearless...and guess what? I'm on that list. So, if you know of anyone getting married....please feel free to send them this link. If you scroll down, you'll see my page (twice for some reason). I haven't won any fearless awards yet....but one day I hope to!

Thanks for the love.

http://www.fearlessphotographers.com/photographers.cfm?locationID=56&ontario

Me and she....from him.

2012-02-15T09:57:00.003-08:00

Three years ago today we were engaged. Whenever someone asks me about the proposal, I reply that it's a long story. Michael took the liberty of writing it down. From his point of view.

When my friends ask about dating advice, and say that the guy calls once a week because he is "too busy", I remind them that as human beings, we always find time for the ones we love. Don't settle for someone who puts you on the shelf. I never would.

http://www.versesfrommykitchen.com

Will you?

2012-02-14T04:38:00.003-08:00

Like the four seasons, there are a certain sequence of life events that unfold as surely as changing weather. What once was green and lush, one day, as if from out of nowhere, seems to suddenly transition to stark and bleak conditions. The nights turn dark quickly and we dream of the sunshine. Isn't this also true for relationships? At the very moment you're sitting on top of the world, things seem to come crashing down, and at the point of despair and grief, as if from out of nowhere, appears the one thing we thought was forever lost: Hope.

My husband asked me the other day what I aspired to be as a child. I gave it some deep thought and was utterly confused. I was always so distracted by boys and finding love, that I never stopped to think about what indeed it was that I wanted out of life. I believe it was part of a master plan from the powers that may be, to have only met the man of my dreams once I was confident and secure with myself. So many people I know are going through heartache and at the tail of Valentine's Day, the most dreadful day for single people, I felt it necessary to remind that everything happens as it should, even if it all seems so ass backwards right now.

Relationships are confusing, especially when they end abruptly and one sided. I personally think it's enlightening during a break up. It is a blessing that it happened now and not later, for it will take that much more time to heal. And time is a wasting. It is, in my humble opinion that it is better to wake up fresh, wondering what exciting adventure or amazing person awaits, than to spend even one more day with someone who doesn't value your worth. And who doesn't love you, just the way you are.

I heard a quote this past weekend in regards to photography equipment. A very successful boudoir photographer candidly recalled her first few years in business. She had an entry level camera and one lens. She quipped that she wore that amateur equipment as a badge of honour and not a badge of shame. These are powerful words. We should also wear our mistakes and our past honourably for they have made us who we are, taken us to this current destination and developed our soul.

The four seasons are supposed to unfold in order. Summer, fall, winter and spring and repeat. But sometimes, things happen in an unexpected order and we have to be ready to embrace the storm or the sunshine, in whichever order it may appear.

Be patient. The sunshine will eventually show up to keep you company. And if you're really lucky,
maybe a cute boy with a ring.

Happy Valentine's Day!!

Love,

Wendy

Lisa & Adam....and an improved Wendy Alana Photography

2012-02-13T07:47:00.001-08:00

My mom first let me know a couple of months ago, that someone would be contacting me regarding photographing their wedding. We first met Lisa and Adam in the new year and we instantly fell in love with them. Lisa's mom was also at our meeting, as well as her best friend, two dogs and cat. They are big huggers, which I love. There is a time and a place for formality, especially in business but I instantly know if a bride and groom hug me, that they feel comfortable. And comfort leads to trust, which leads to a great working relationship.

We pulled up my website during the meeting and Lisa was oohing and ahhing, talking about wanting those specific moments for her wedding. I explained to her that we rarely stage these moments, and that her day would be full of her own unique memories. They hired us, and were not that interested in an engagement session, since their wedding is only weeks away.

As part of our packages, we include an engagement session, not only for the couple to warm up to the camera and get beautiful photos taken, but for us to get to know them on a more personal level. When we show up to their wedding day, it as if we are old friends, which makes for some beautiful and relaxed photos.

Lisa and Adam weren't terribly interested in posed portraits, so I knew I had to be creative in my insistence of the engagement session. I emailed her asking if they would like casual photos taken of them and their animals. Their dogs are a huge part of their wedding day so it only seemed fitting. Lisa squealed at this thought and secretly I knew how this was going to go down.

We rescheduled our shoot on Saturday due to the wind and snow, but yesterday was a perfect day to play with the dogs in their yard. When the canines were tired out, I asked if it was okay to take a few photos of the two of them, and even Lisa and her mom who had stopped by for a bit.

The results did not surprise me. After an hour or so, the couple were getting right into it, and when I asked for ideas of their own, they had mentioned showcasing their full back and arm tattoos. I loved this, and got to see a different side to them. It is often the end of the photography session that, if I've done my job properly, they feel comfortable enough to suggest their own ideas. And I love that, as it means the client is also present and invested in the session. A photographer can only do so much directing to get what they want out of the client.

We have been changing things up over here a bit with our business practices. As our 2012 prices have increased, we have also paid specific attention to detail with the entire wedding process. We want to ensure our clients not only have beautiful photos, but an entire experience worth talking about. Throughout the year, the client is sent little mailed surprises, and in the weeks leading to the wedding day, we invite them to our home for a gourmet dinner cooked by Michael. We conduct most of our meetings at our home as we believe it better acquaints our clients with us; not only as a photography team but as a husband and wife who can understand and empathize the stress of planning a wedding.

We have created several detailed documents in order to further understand what our couples are all about, how they see their day unfolding and a detailed questionnaire which we were so fortunate to get from Nashville husband and wife team Zach and Jody Gray. I have really taken the time to understand where my time was wasted, what has gone wrong and most importantly, what I'm doing right.

We have been taking several workshops lately which have let us know that we are on the right track, and also offered areas where we can improve on. We are upgrading our equipment, booking less weddings and offering a more boutique approach to all of our clients. I've discovered that if you give your clients an amazing experience, they can't help but be your biggest fans. To this date, I haven't spent a dollar on advertising so I must be doing something right. In regards to equipment, I heard a quote this weekend from boudoir photographer Christa Meola. She mentioned that new photographers are often intimidated with their minimal equipment and she recalls shooting for three years on an entry level camera and one lens...she said that she wore that equipment as a badge of honor and not a badge of shame. Isn't that true of all things in life? When you have to work harder at something, when things aren't as easy straight away, aren't you better off for it in the end?

We are excited to kick off wedding season in 59 days with Lisa and Adam. It blows my mind that April of last year was my first wedding shot in Punta Cana.

I guess the saying rings true that luck truly favours the well prepared.

Lisa and Adam, we can't wait to see you soon. Here are some of my favourite shots from yesterday, and many more for your eyes only. Cheers to a beautiful couple.

Love,

Wendy

Spring dreaming.....

2012-02-11T07:57:00.001-08:00

Somebody.

2012-02-09T14:55:00.001-08:00

Now you're just somebody that I used to know.

Little Miss Liviana

2012-02-08T05:55:00.001-08:00

Just us.

2012-02-08T05:28:00.000-08:00

Somewhere between poor choices and bad luck, I ended up here -----------> happy.

..........

2012-02-06T04:25:00.000-08:00

.........Lighten up baby, I'm in love with you.

Go Madge Go!

2012-02-05T08:02:00.000-08:00

Everyone who knows me, knows how much I love this gal. I once had these "friends"

who bought a bunch of tickets to the sold out Toronto Madonna show. They gave the spare

ticket to one of their husbands who was so disinterested, he sat outside smoking the entire time.

I went down with another friend, where they were scalping tickets for $800. I swear to God,

I almost paid it...my friend said to me, I can't let you spend a month's rent on one ticket.

I begged the doorman to let me peek in, just as she was singing Vogue. I got a glimpse and

my heart soared. Then, the mean attendant abruptly shut the curtains and gone was my chance to see the Material Girl in all her glory. My glimpse lasted about 30 seconds and I can only hope to see her live again one day. For now, I am pumped for her performance tonight at the halftime Superbowl show.

Go Madge Go!

Your biggest fan,

Wendy

Valentine.

2012-02-02T08:35:00.000-08:00

Will you be mine?

The Luxe Box - January Edition

2012-02-01T07:16:00.000-08:00

I love gifts that keep on giving. Last night, four ladies got together as our Luxe boxes had arrived. Normally, we would all have found an excuse to back out of a dinner out on a Tuesday night; children, work, exhaustion etc. But the rule was, we couldn't open our goody box until the four of us were present.

We drove our waitress nuts as we hadn't even looked at the menu. We excitedly yet delicately peeled back the beautiful personalized tissue paper to peer into our cosmetic treats. Ooooooh......Ahhhhhhhh.

We were each given customized high end products based on a questionnaire we had filled out about our style and taste. The old(er) women ah-hem were given a generous size of anti aging cream (which, by sample size is worth $41 on it's own!) We were given some of the newest fragrances to sample, nail laquer, some hair products, gourmet coffee, razors and coupons to receive future discounts.

Every month, one of these boxes are set to arrive in the mail. We almost swarmed the mailman when I saw his car approaching our mail units. Good thing I have a bird's eye view when he arrives.

Thanks for a great Christmas gift Sandie....and a gift that gets us together...with no excuses not to be there.

xo