In the rolling hills of Kentucky, the beauty of the Bluegrass State unfolds in every sunrise, whispers through the rustling leaves, and echos down the cozy country hollers. I feel so blessed to have grown up here, and even more grateful that I get to photograph these landscapes. My heart belongs to these hills and I have my Mama and Daddy to thank for that.
November 12, 2021, marked a poignant moment in my life as I said goodbye to the woman who taught me all there is to know about resilience and strength. She wasn't just a mother; she was the silent orchestrator of a warm and loving home, the unseen hand behind every cherished childhood memory.
Growing up surrounded by the landscape of Kentucky, my mother instilled in me a deep appreciation for the raw beauty that our part of the world offers. She was the silent observer of countless sunsets, the quiet admirer of rolling fields, and the one who taught me that there's poetry in the simplest moments.
I remember working in the garden with my family in the early fall just after heavy rains. We were a family of 10 and we all worked together to grow most of what we ate.
Our fields were a mixture of rich soil and some of that old red clay dirt that stuck to everything and made you absolutely filthy. As we were working, I stopped at the end of the field to look back and will never forget that moment for as long as I live. My Mother had her head down, working hard, her hands, legs and boots covered in a thick coating of that awful clay. Even then, in that muddy field that felt like it was light years away from civilization, she was the most elegant and beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was thin and tiny then, even though she'd birthed 6 children (she'd have 2 more), she looked so strong standing out there.
She always had a gracefulness about the way she moved, the way she sat, and the way she talked. At her visitation, I watched her sweet Sisters walk up to her to say goodbye one last time and I noticed each of them moved in that exact same way. Mary Ellen, my grandmother, had to have taught those ladies that, and Mary Ellen’s mama taught her I’m sure. I admired that grace and elegance so much and one of my biggest regrets to this day is not telling her how beautiful she looked, even in that moment. No makeup, hair tied up, wearing her work clothes and covered in clay mud. She was one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
Her fighting spirit and unwavering love continue to fuel my passion for photography, turning each frame into a heartfelt homage to her legacy. As I navigate the diverse scenes that Kentucky unfolds before me, I can't help but feel her presence in the gentle breeze that blows through the horse pastures and the golden glow that bathes the iconic bourbon distilleries.
We took these photos shortly before her birthday in 2018. If you knew my Mama, you know she would never ask for a photo shoot or to have any special attention at all. She didn't like taking pictures but somehow we persuaded her and I am so very thankful we did. My Sister did her hair and we dragged her out into the sunset with us. We all laughed so much that evening, and just for a few moments I saw her as that young woman again. Glowing and graceful as ever. This time I made sure to tell her how beautiful she looked in the glowing light.
We never expected her reaction when we gifted her a framed photo from that session.
She had a stroke the next year and her health quickly declined. Soon after that she became bed ridden and was not able to venture outside without her wheelchair.
These photos have meant the world to me the past few years and I share them with my babies, her grandchildren, often to remind them of her.
To those seeking a Kentucky photographer, I extend not just my skills but a piece of my heart—a heart that understands the need for connection and the importance of photos like these.
As I continue to tell stories through my photographs, I pay homage to the woman who taught me that behind every image lies a tale waiting to be shared. My Mama's legacy lives on in every smile, every tear, and every embrace, guiding my lens and infusing each image with a touch of her enduring grace.
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