passion | High School Photography | WAVphoto

17 September 2014

“The things you are passionate about are not random.
They are your calling.”
-Fabienne Fredrickson

High school students are a pleasure to photograph.
Only a few of my subjects have ever been photographed by a professional photographer.
Most have mastered the selfie.

Our consultation gets us on the same page-with each other and with one of their parents!
The day of our session, I have a young adult, filled with energy
and a willingness to cooperate- perhaps needing a little guidance,
a little direction, a big laugh and the opportunity to show their passion.

Then the experience begins.

I make them feel strong.

I make them feel confident.

I help them feel beautiful.

Together, we create art.

The art will always remind this person of their unique experience with me, of feeling strong, confident & beautiful.

http://www.WAVphoto.com

Summer Moments

22 August 2014

1 Comment

A short video of summer in the Adirondack Mountains~

(click on “Summer Moments” below)

Summer Moments.

flowers

7 August 2014

1 Comment

I’m so fortunate to know such strong & beautiful women.
To have the opportunity to photograph one in this field
of flowers is a dream come true.

http://www.Migratoryhaven.com
Willsboro, New York

heartbeat

1 August 2014

sandwich

30 July 2014

3 Comments

I may not remember the date although I could take a close enough guess but I do recall how my heart felt when my children knew my name. “Mom” had such a wonderful sound to it when my daughter first said the word. Two years later my heart filled again when my son also made the connection. I knew they understood that I was someone important to them and in order to get my attention, all they had to say was “Mom”. (In our home it was much easier to say a word than throw a tantrum or cry – just felt better).

I probably won’t remember this date on the calendar in a few weeks either. I will be able to visit inside my heart as I held my tears at bay when my mom said my name. Today.

The nurse saw me after I signed in at the reception desk. She said my mom was having a ‘good day’ today. I approached the craft table and the aide said, “Anne, your daughter is here!” (my mom with dementia is still quite competent with an ‘appropriate’ response, even if she has no idea what you’re talking about). We started walking to the garden. I turned to her and asked ‘do you know my name?’. She looked at my face, and with more clarity than I have recently seen, said “Wendy”.

I get emotional when she doesn’t have any idea who I am or what her story is. The lump in my throat successfully squeezes tears from my eyes. I also get emotional when she does have a sliver of clarity. Those precious moments when I can help her remember parts of her story are rare. I can see the effort in her brain to recall and describe events in her past. Some details are missing, but they aren’t important. I know her story and can fill in the blanks.

So, the sandwich. I seem to fit into the statistic called “The Sandwich Generation”, where the middle generation has a parent requiring care and children who are not quite independent yet. In the middle. Sometimes I feel like the baloney.

dignity

23 July 2014

2 Comments

Dear Caregiver,

I saw you.
I heard you.

I don’t know if you truly heard my quiet voice, strained with a lump in my throat say ‘thank you’.

I came to pick up my mother for a visit to the doctor. You may not recall that day specifically because you were doing your job. Your days are probably filled with moments like this, without anyone seeing the work you do. That moment will always live inside my heart.

I saw you pick out a fresh outfit to put on, one that all three pieces coordinate. You couldn’t have known that I took my mom shopping a couple summers ago and we picked out that outfit together. I saw the care and concern in your actions toward my mom as a caregiver and as a caring human. She may not remember anything about today, may continue to jumble her thoughts and words but you understand that she is my mother.

I heard you when she gave you a difficult time about changing her clothes that day. You gently told her she’s going out today and reminded her that she would like to look nice. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for remembering that this once vibrant, loving, beautiful woman is still beautiful. You helped preserve her dignity for this moment. I doubt she will recall it. I will never forget it.

You know about the dementia, the challenges in getting her to the hospital just two nights ago. You know the medication given to her to get thru that procedure made her even more forgetful, challenging, perhaps. And you continued being kind, professional and caring.

I saw you.
I heard you.
I thank you.

still water

17 July 2014

2 Comments

memorial

31 May 2014

2 Comments

>
I walked through the fallen leaves on a bright & brisk morning. I came across the field and walked the pathway toward it remembering my first visit many years and a lifetime ago. Back then, I was overwhelmed with emotion because the monument itself was beautiful, unique, powerful. I remember I had stopped in my tracks after it came into view. Masterfully created, mindfully placed.
Sacrifice finally recognized.

While I thought I knew what to expect having visited the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial in Washington, DC before, the emotion hit me harder and more deeply this day. Perspective broadened, time passed, gratitude carved into my soul.

58,286 names etched into black granite.
Each name belongs. A son, a brother, a father, a friend.
The youngest name belongs to a 15 year old who lied about his age.

The memorial is a somber place standing out among the white marble momuments and tributes that surround it. The intention of the black granite surface is to reflect the trees and sky and the people who come to visit.
A place to grieve. A place to remember.

Tributes are carried to The Wall and left behind usually with tears of grief and sadness. A burden of the survivors. Flowers, letters, emblems of friendship and memories. A brand new Harley Davidson motorcycle — a gift to an only child from his dad, was left at the wall to honor the son who would never get to ride it.

The commitment continues to bring each one home to be buried in the United States.

Near each name is a small symbol:
a diamond means they are accounted for
+ symbolizes they have not been recovered and are still missing.
As the remains are discovered and returned home, the + is etched
into a diamond.
The + will be etched into a circle when, and if, they return alive.

Nature

27 May 2014

2 Comments

Nature does not hurry yet everything is accomplished.
-Lao Tzu

the details

7 May 2014

5 Comments

Iron Horse details WAVphoto

Years ago I was given a gift. The giver presented it to me saying,
“you’re such a visual person, I thought you’d like this.” I liked her
sentiments more and those words have stuck with me over ten years.

It’s true. I am a visual person. I used to think everyone saw what I saw
until I began using a camera. I still scratch my head in wonder when
people ask, ‘how did you see that?’ (With all respect & love in my heart,
‘how did you NOT see that’?)

I see the way light plays with objects creating dark shadows.
I notice shape and texture. The details speak to me.

The details.

I recently visited The Iron Horse Hotel in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The details were incredible from the moment the valet greeted & escorted me to
the check-in desk where I was welcomed by a friendly smile and a
freshly poured signature cocktail. Yes. The details are not overlooked.

My husband was due to meet me at the bar after his flight arrived in
Milwaukee. He arrived as the long-awaited sun came out on a warm
spring afternoon. I kindly asked our fantastic waitress if the outdoor bar
was open. “The Yard” was not open yet for the season – but sensing
our desire to enjoy a drink outside she promptly gathered our beverages, escorted us outside and secured two stools. Perfect. She checked on
us & as the wind picked up, re-established our place inside.

We walked through the set of a magazine photo shoot next – kidding,
it just seemed like it. The restaurant, Smyth, ready for dining had oil lamps
lit in Mason jars…everywhere. It was magical, comfortable, inviting.

Iron Horse lobby details
WAVphoto

The Iron Horse Hotel is a 100 year old warehouse transformed into a luxury boutique hotel. A fusion of ‘industrial-era form and modern day function’
(from Iron Horse website). ‘Iron Horse’ is a term used for old trains and
part of the charm remains as the hotel is on active train tracks. In each guest room there’s a package of ear plugs in case the noise of the train is disturbing.
(it wasn’t).

The room was a mix of texture – leather headboard, iron art, exposed glass shower wall and cream city brick. I had the most comfortable pillow I’ve ever slept on. If you’ve come to town for a business meeting or arrived on your Harley – the Iron Horse Hotel seems to accommodate all. (including dogs) Details.

Breakfast in the Smyth didn’t disappoint at all. Service was prompt, friendly, great coffee and food. Back to arousal of my senses with details. The coffee was served in the most perfect, white mug. The interior designer knew what they were doing as the little details all got along including the hammered stems on the silverware, the photographs on the walls, the nails on the cushioned chairs.

Iron Horse library details
WAVphoto

It was early on Sunday morning when we walked into the Library. I would have spent the entire day there if possible. The leather couches surround a coffee table that almost asks to rest your feet on it. A fireplace tucked into a corner pleads a longer stay. A peek out the long windows reveals the train tracks and, yes, the cars passing below. The library is host to the most beautiful photographic images of Route 66 made by Thomas Ferderbar, a local artist. Each was framed beautifully.

Iron Horse details
Tom Ferderbar photographs of Route 66
WAVphoto

I later found out about the “Book Now” program where guests are
welcomed & encouraged to leave books in their room or in the library
upon departure. The books are donated to the Literary Services of
Wisconsin program for those learning to read.

I am a visual person. I notice the details.
All my senses were alive at the Iron Horse Hotel. Green apples
in a bowl, industrial gears on the side table, the rope swing in
front of the giant flag, the perfect smell, a combination of leather,
wood and fresh.

The sign of a great place to me is the desire to return.
To linger among the details.
I’ve been told I’m a visual person.

The Iron Horse Hotel
IronHorseHotel.com
Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Wendy Andrews

Authentic portraits

Category Archives: WAVphoto

passion | High School Photography | WAVphoto

Summer Moments

flowers

heartbeat

sandwich

dignity

still water

memorial

Nature

the details