photos in this post by the incomparable denise andrade

contacting denise to schedule a photo session last spring was another thing on my saying "yes" spree that began around the same time. i had recently found her blog, had seen her images there and elsewhere, and something inside me, something young and uncensored and wanting, craved the chance to see myself in her dreamy hued intimacy. an impulsive email was sent. a brief story told. a session scheduled and rescheduled. and, in august of this year, these images were taken.

i didn't anticipate the layers i would shed in this process. that i am still shedding as i revisit these images. 

the truth is, the times in my life where i have favored my outer image have been few. i am not sure i really see in my current reflection what is there today, what is revealed in this moment of my appearance, because, for me ,the mirror is clouded by all the images, and emotional undercurrents, of my past. from the young girl who was told her belly was too big for the rainbow striped bikini, or the teen who spent long hours in front of the mirror imagining if only the bump in her nose wasn't there. from the twenty-five year old mother with stretch marks from breast to hip, to the thirty-something who wonders when that last five or ten pounds will finally slip her consciousness. 

there is this image that my mind thinks i need to project in the outer life that i am creating for myself. world-traveler. photographer. writer. savvy. strong. cool. insightful. confident. compassionate. intelligent. brave.

i wondered if denise, as a "photographer of artists" would question my qualifications. 

as it was, the one outfit that i had chosen to project this image, the hip pin-striped pants, the modern, solid high-heels, the red necklace, was "accidentally" left at home. (and i packed carefully)

instead, i had only soft things to wear. dresses of indian cotton and silk. 

nothing edgy to hide behind. 

and there was no hiding in the meadow that day.

slowly, gently, some comfort in my skin was coaxed out of me, by the sweet, reassuring voice of a new friend. the quiet that only early morning can hold. the solid ground beneath and the vast sky above. 

what i see in these photos is a naked vulnerability. a shyness.  the truth. that i wasn't totally believing i deserved to be seen this way. that i wished i was a little more relaxed in my body and with my smile. that i wanted to have the guts to skip and dance and show more of the inner-freedom that was waking up in me.

that's not to say i don't think these photos are beautiful. because i do. very much so. but, for me, the beauty i see in these images is as much about the magic of denise's photography, and even of  my outer appearance that day, as it is about what she captured, underneath it all, for me.

in the moment these photos were taken, i was seen and revealed exactly as i was on that morning. in them, i see the hesitancy, the longing, the readiness to shed  the layers that were ready to go. the yearnings and the doubts. 

and i see  hope. the emergence of trust–in myself and other. the experience of same. of homecoming in a kindred friend. 

i see the woman who said yes.

during this photo session, i allowed my gaze to be  held longer by a lens than ever before. sharing these photos here, now, calls up the same raw vulnerability that denise captured in them; which is why  i think i've waited a while to share more of them.  

while i would be lying to say that i am totally comfortable with posting them today, i woke this morning knowing it was time. time to shed another layer, reveal and be seen. 

(if you are the one person left on the planet who does not read denise's blog, you can-and must-find it here)