Set Date & Location

25 minute session

Ideal for updating galleries

Session Fee: $200

Saturday, October 16th the Murals 9:00, 9:35, 10:10

Sunday, October 17th Seabright Beach 4:30, 5:10, 5:50

Sunday, October 31st Redwoods at Bramhall Park 8:45, 9:20, 9:55

Sunday, October 31st Crissy Field 4:25, 5:00, 5:35

Saturday, November 20th Portola Valley Community Center 3:10, 3:45, 4:20

Sunday, October 17th Seabright Beach 4:30, 5:10, 5:50

Sunday, October 31st Redwoods at Bramhall Park 8:45, 9:20, 9:55

Sunday, October 31st Crissy Field 4:25, 5:00, 5:35

Saturday, November 20th Portola Valley Community Center 3:10, 3:45, 4:20

Sunday, October 17th Seabright Beach 4:30, 5:10, 5:50

Sunday, October 31st Redwoods at Bramhall Park 8:45, 9:20, 9:55

Sunday, October 31st Crissy Field 4:25, 5:00, 5:35

Saturday, November 20th Portola Valley Community Center 3:10, 3:45, 4:20

Sunday, October 17th Seabright Beach 4:30, 5:10, 5:50

Sunday, October 31st Redwoods at Bramhall Park 8:45, 9:20, 9:55

Sunday, October 31st Crissy Field 4:25, 5:00, 5:35

Saturday, November 20th Portola Valley Community Center 3:10, 3:45, 4:20

Merry Christmas!

Small Nativity (soft color or colorful version) $90
Eight pieces: Mary, Joseph, Jesus, shepherd and shepherd boy, two sheep & angel in original or natural. $90 plus shipping (in cardboard gift box).

Large Nativity (soft color or bright version) $175
Full set Mary, Joseph, Jesus, shepherd and shepherd boy, two sheep and a cow, angel, three wisemen and three camels in original or natural
$175 plus shipping (in cardboard gift box).

With Stable storage box $50.
Handmade select pine storage box with lid and sheepskin. $50 plus additional shipping.

Email to order or inquire about availability and shipping times.

Merry Christmas! from Anna Mayer on Vimeo.

The first time I met my next door neighbor she was young, newly married and expecting her first baby. She had no idea how much she would learn in the coming years. I was a seasoned mom with a teenager, a preschooler and two in-between. I had no idea how much I would learn in the coming years.

I was the first person to meet and hold that baby. The first to hold the next three. We have been friends through painful times of life and times of joy and hope. Through toddler drama, pregnancies, potty training, diaper rash, and tantrums. Through terrifying teenager trials and bittersweet transitions from one stage of motherhood to the next.

She has loved my kids and counseled them as they navigated elementary school and high school and then adult life. She has watched them grow and mature and change with a mom-like love. She has cried with me and for me when my children have gone astray and broken my heart. She has cheered me on as I found my footing after life has knocked me down again and again.

I have loved her kids, hugged them, pushed them on the swing for literally hours, snuggled them as babies and watched them become independent and wonderful little people. I have captured literally thousands of photos of them playing in the yard, jumping on the “frampoline” and being little people from the time they were born. I have sat by my friend as she grieved the loss of her expectations, navigated the journey from a powerful working woman to stay-at-home mom of more and more kids. I have cheered her on as she found her footing after life has knocked her down again and again.

We’ve had backyard barbeques and smores around the fire. Impromptu chats in the yard too numerous to count. Days when I wandered from my house of teen-horrors for a long snuggle with a small person who still loves purely and simply. We have keys to each other’s houses and borrow each other’s tools and eggs (okay, I “borrow” their eggs and butter and flour and paprika and they borrow our tools). Our trampoline is pretty much their trampoline and I put in a swingset to get the kids to come our way (it worked). I wander over with a cocktail and keep her company while she cleans her van, wipes noses and answers 2,000 preschooler questions. Her toddler comes to my house with dandelion bouquets and her kids have all learned to say my name before they could say much at all.

I freaking love them. Having neighbors like that is what life is all about. One day they will move away and a little piece of my heart will go with them. Actually, six little pieces. We will always be friends but there is nothing like having a friend like that living next door. It’s kinda’ the best.

Full Menu

If you would like to purchase a collection simply deduct $640 from the collection price. 
If you would also like to purchase all digital files, choose any collection . . . 
then take 50% off the “add digital files” price. 
________________________

Sample one:  you want a gallery of 10 images and also want the Modern album
Choose the Honey Collection: $1900 
-$640 credit
additional cost $1260

And to add the digital files:
menu price $1200
x 50% off
your price $600

Total: $1860 for gallery, album and all files. 

__________________________

Sample two: you want to upgrade your gallery and purchase a few prints, but no album
Choose the Sugar Collection: menu price $1300 
-$640 credit
your price  $660

And to add the digital files:
menu price $1500
x 50% off
your price $750

Total: $1410 for $1500 in gallery and prints and all files. 

Full Menu

June:
5-12
18-20
25-30
July:
1-10 except for the 4th
16-18

Dates for Minneapolis/Fargo etc

Twin Cities:
July:
18th (evening)
26-28th
Fergus Falls or Fargo:
22-26th

West Coast (click to get started)
SF Bay Area:

March 6-8 (location of your choice in the Bay Area)
Custom Sessions:
Fri, Mar 6th: 5:00 pm
Sat, Mar 7th: 10:45 am, 1:30, & 4:30 pm
Sun, Mar 8th: 8:30, 10:45 am, 1:30, & 3:30 pm
Short & Sweets:
Sat, March 7th: 8:30, 9:00, 9:30, 10:00
Cuesta Park, Mountain View

May 1-3 (location of your choice in the Bay Area)
Custom Sessions:
Fri, May 1st: 6:15 pm
Sat, May 2nd: 9:00, 10:45 am, 3:30, & 6 :00 pm
Sun, May 3rd: 8:30, 10:45 am, 3:30, & 6:15 pm
Short & Sweets:
Sun, May 3rd: 8:30, 9:00, 9:30, 10:00
Portola Valley Town Center

Austin/San Antonio TX
March 15-20

Portland, Oregon/Oregon Coast:
TBA (early August)

Boston Area:
TBA (September)

Tahoe:
TBA (Likely June)

Milwaukee:
Contact us to find your dates!
Chicago:
Contact us to find your dates!
Midwest (click to get started)

When I was a young mom my grandfather told me that parenting is a roller coaster. That I just needed to hold on and remember that there are ups and downs on every ride. I think he’s right; it’s a wicked but exciting roller coaster. It looks, from the waiting line below, like so much fun. We, the mass of unsuspecting first-timers, apprehensively yet hopefully, search the faces of the finishers for signs of what to expect; they seem all smiles, if not a little dizzy and green. So we wait with anticipation and excitement for our turn. We buckle in and smile at the friend next to us, exchanging nervous shrugs with the stranger strapped in behind us. The cars start to click-click-click up that first hill and we think “Oh, wait, stop! I want off, I changed my mind!” But there is no going back. The shoulder straps are locked down tight and we are in it now. Before we know it we are at the summit of that first hill. We plummet, and rise, we lurch and bounce and question our sanity for willingly taking a seat on this torture-train. We even paid money, we waited in line for this!

Just as we are screaming at our friend that we HATE this ride, we come to a hilltop that is actually kind of beautiful. We see some vistas of the park that take our breath away, if only for a moment before we are yanked violently back down a harrowing drop. Up and down and side to side we fly, sometimes laughing, sometimes gritting our teeth in fear, anticipating the worst. Sometimes smiling contentedly at the spectacular views.

Before we can even process all that we have seen and experienced, the ride pulls into the station with a sudden and jarring lurch. We smile and look at the friend beside us as we both say “Whoa, that was actually fun!” The mass of unsuspecting participants, still eagerly awaiting their turn, apprehensively, yet hopefully, search the finisher’s faces for signs of what to expect when their buckles click into place. All they can see are happy smiles, a slight dishevelment of hair and clothes and a little bit of gathered wisdom on faces and so they strap in, excited to take their turn on the ride of a lifetime, blissfully unaware of what’s to come.

Hang in there, parents. This ride isn’t all fun and laughs around every turn or down every steep drop, but one day the car will lurch back into the station and you will smile and remember that it was, indeed, the ride of a lifetime.

-Anna

We trekked back to the top of that steep, dust-swept hill and grabbed Yazmin and Roman, plus Isabella, who, as part of our group brought laughter, joy, and levity to everything. I hung back as the four teenagers marched and laughed their way down the hill. They couldn’t communicate beyond hand gestures and smiles, but they were carrying on like old friends just the same.

It struck me, as I watched these four teenagers from immensely divergent backgrounds giggle and snack on junk foods like they’d known each other forever, how universal the need for friendship and connection is. These kids have never gone to school, they don’t play volleyball or rock climb in expensive gyms. They work all day to be able to eat that night. They take care of their younger siblings and help build and repair their family’s shelter. Roman dreams of moving somewhere to get a good job so he can help his family climb out of poverty. He is sixteen years old and he bears the weight of 12 other lives on his young shoulders and in his heart. Despite all that, despite the daily struggles they face, struggles that gratefully our daughters will never face, they still want to laugh, to drink a soda and spend time with other teenagers and for just a moment to forget everything and just be kids.

Sigh. Mi corazón.

To be continued . . .

It was only Day One of our trip when my sweet hija (daughter), who is also clearly an adolescente (teenager), informed me that I was embarrassing her; obviously, I was getting it all wrong. People had to ask me “¿Como?” (What?) a LOT. My list of words lacked connectors which left me asking “Where . . . food place . . . no . . . flour . . . stuff?” (by the way, they don’t really know about gluten-free so don’t bother, ha). I felt a little sad at her teasing, sadder at my poor speaking skills, but as I laid in my bunk that first night I reminded myself why I learned it in the first place. I decided that the words of an embarrassed teenager are not really words to live by (duh).

I think that learning someone else’s language is a form of respect. You honor them, even if your attempts are broken and silly and completely out of order. You show the other person that you are not there to make Mexico or Africa or Haiti into a Little America, but you are there to stand alongside them in their own journey, in their own country. It feels good when someone tries to understand your language, whether it’s spoken or unspoken. We all want to feel heard and known.

The day I met the Ochoa family, that wonderful family with ten children at the top of the steep hillside, had I not learned my little basket of Spanish words we would have simply said “hola” and gone our separate ways. I would not have come home with twelve new friends. They may have continued to feel isolated and alone and would not have found a new community in a local church (more on that later). Beautifully, we made a meaningful connection, starting with broken Spanish and flourishing through a translator, a translator app, Facebook’s multi-language interface and now hours of chatting through Messenger and texting using Google Translate.

I am so excited to build on my Spanish, to keep learning more about this family, to get back to Ensenada to visit them, get real-life hugs from them and most importantly, to have deeper conversations with them using my newly acquired language skills. It is a journey worth taking, ya’ll. Connections are life.

Yesterday, Roman, the Ochoa’s oldest son, told me to hug my husband and kids from him and from his family. I told him to hug his family, too, teasing that it will take a while to hug them all. He replied to me “Oh, no, solo reuniré a todos a mi alrededor y les daré un gran abrazo”, basically, he will gather them all together and give them one big hug. “Ah” I said, “We call that ‘a group hug’ and it sounds wonderful.” I can’t wait to deliver an “abrazo grupal” to them myself very very soon.

Click for the next chapter: Ensenada: Laughter is the universal language.