“…There is something else about the dog – and I would probably say about other animals too, if I knew them better – which is more noteworthy, and that is its capacity for seeing things directly as they are, unencumbered by any obscuring conceptualization. This is the condition known as “Satori”. If any sentient beings I know are in a state of Satori, it is obviously my dogs. Good God, they seem to be swimming in the Tao from morning till night! Whether sleeping, romping, chasing rabbits, eating or communing with their canine or human friends, they are always the same. When in the deep forest, they are awestruck – a state I would describe as a “fantastically relaxed kind of high tension.”

From The Tao is Silent, by R. Smullyan

We adopted him a little over a year ago. His puppyhood is like that of most wandering gypsies and misfits; a collage of far-fetched tales, weaving zip codes and remarkable accounts of adventure, peppered by brushes with death.

Prior to his pillow-top domestication, Huckleberry was no stranger to extreme survival tactics. As he clambered through the dense Montana wilderness, untamed huckleberry bushes were rumored to be his primary source of sustenance, and later to become his namesake. Picturing him in the moonlit woods, naked and free, is as inspiring as it is alarming.  The fact that he was found with a purple mustache is as hilarious as it is wrenching.

His personal rags-to-riches story continues to bolster his complexity. I’ll never know when his eyes first opened to the world, which tooth came first or the reasons behind the mysterious absence of a standard sized tail. But I take comfort in the truths I know to be certain: The origin of scars (spider bite), the newfound hobbies (squirrels) and the brushes with death to which I’ve been a witness (unleashed, renegade getaway through rush hour city traffic). And I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with the mysteries that remain so: He rounds off at the end, inexplicably. He’s impossibly blonde, with highlights. And he’s the exact same width, all the way down.

For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him, Huckleberry is my dog.

It’s a new year. New opportunities for change and renewal are everywhere. Fresh, fluid energy can be found all over my daily life, sprouting in the crannies of the dustiest, most unorganized places of my home and mind. With it comes purpose and will, despite the paralyzing cold. Even though the green has succumbed to bare, anticipation sits in the starkness of branches.  Even though the dogs never cease their shivering, there is renewed hope that the squirrel they’ve been eyeing for weeks from the window will momentarily forgo its lifelong instinct to bolt. Even though the cold makes the chip in my tooth ache, my visible breath serves as a reminder of my humanness and with each inhale the cool, fluid energy is alive and following me like a shadow.

“It’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst… And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life.”

-American Beauty

Everyone keeps on racing and working and fretting. All the while the dog lets out a big sigh.

We should be taking notes.

Forget Dr. Phil and Oprah and Suze Orman. Let your dog show you the way.

And for that matter, maybe it’s Haunches who should be taking the pictures. She always finds the best light.

Laura and Patrick were married on a bluff overlooking the Puget Sound. She was nervous, but happy. He was beaming. Everyone was beautiful and the weather behaved. I have an encyclopedia sized collection of photos to prove it, which I will share eventually. But before they tied the knot, we took a walk in the woods. It was quiet except for birds, shady except for filtered light, romantic except for me there, documenting. We found a winding path made just for them for just this moment.  (And by just for them, I mean just for me)

During my most recent trip out West, I spent a shimmery Sunday morning lakeside with the Madigans. These guys are just the bees knees. I chased them around their local park with my camera, looking for good forest light and making mental notes “two year olds are way faster than one year olds”, I thought.  I could spend every Sunday with them, holding hands and eating wild blackberries. Their love is something to behold.

Take II

I’ve been surrounded by very pretty things all summer long. Be it the quiet saunter of a deer through the grapevines, an abundance of ripe local peaches or an aspiring young actress donned in a vintage skirt from Japan. I’m up to my ears in very pretty things.

And believe me, I’m not complaining…

But just as I was revving up for a summer of photographing southern belles, with a twist of the universe my very first photo shoot in North Carolina happened to be with a Seattleite. Go figure.
Her name is Cara. She’s an indie actress, chef and soon to be teacher. Very Seattle indeed. We got along beautifully, reminiscing all things Northwest…the food, area codes, ferries, the FOOD. And like a couple of ice cubes on a BBQ, we melted under the hot sun of the south while snapping away a whole pile of pretty photographs.

Take I

Main Squeeze