tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3690541835957309352024-02-07T17:11:39.656-08:00Labor of Love PixFine art portrait photography takes you through the most wonderful moments of your lives: weddings, bump, birth and beyond!Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-80453845949897398842010-10-05T11:02:00.000-07:002010-10-06T05:11:50.055-07:00October is breast cancer awareness month...It's been a year since I met Carmen, who is the inspiration for my art project, Beauty beyond breast cancer. This has been a long process as we are still trying to schedule times so that I can continue with her story. But it is not just about Carmen, there are far too many women that this non-discriminating disease strikes. Age, ethnicity and even heredity do not always factor into who will hear the dreaded words from their doctors... I'm sorry, the lump we discovered is cancerous. I'm sure you could hear a pin drop as their minds raced and an inaudible scream welled up in their throats. <br /> <br />But for the grace of God, go I... As a woman, a mother of a daughter and grandmother to 2 girls; I can feel their pain. Breast cancer is not in my family history but it remains a fear for me. I have watched a friend lose a sister at the age of 39, leaving behind a 9 year old daughter and a loving husband to fend for themselves. She fought a long battle, on her terms and lived her life as best she could. <br /><br />Breast cancer is not always a death sentence but that thought goes through everyones mind at one point or another and I am always amazed at the strength these women exhibit and how much is drawn upon from their friends, family, and even strangers when they need it.<br /><br />I have read many blogs and links to support groups and am so drawn to their stories, the emotions that they share and their willingness to open up their hearts and souls in order to help someone else cope with living with cancer.<br /><br />You never know where your life will lead you or on what path you will happen to meet someone who can make a change in your life. Art has always been an expression of emotions, through light and shadows you create a mood, with colors vivid or subdued you set the stage. I hope that the story I tell will touch you and open your hearts to others because it is with an open heart, that so much love comes in and flows out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1bKI4MOghM02dHEBqYLepNX_uVCa_VXWD3aCLsrec1XQoWSGeN0QifL_S2VPsfFjBUjijb-me8JJ40WsF2NIY2jXQsb_pcD7QmbSjkMHr4iccB5bkbBAZfyNe_aMSVAsgiXH7P7FrZJg/s1600/_MG_0870.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1bKI4MOghM02dHEBqYLepNX_uVCa_VXWD3aCLsrec1XQoWSGeN0QifL_S2VPsfFjBUjijb-me8JJ40WsF2NIY2jXQsb_pcD7QmbSjkMHr4iccB5bkbBAZfyNe_aMSVAsgiXH7P7FrZJg/s200/_MG_0870.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524644689379284770" /></a><br /><br /><br />By chance a woman from PA saw my comment on a breast cancer link and reached out to me. She told me that she would like to be a part of my photo essay on breast cancer and that she had her last chemo treatment the day before. She attached a picture of her and her family on that day and I felt compelled to her endearing, bright smile. She wasn't quite in the NJ/NY metro area but I'd have been hard pressed not to drive 2-1/2 hours for the chance to meet this remarkable, positive, lovely, young woman who was on her journey - life with breast cancer. Mary did not have a mastectomy, the lump was removed leaving a small scar. Six months of chemo behind her and radiation treatments ahead of her - her journey begins. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytrfFCvZxdrLNn56BRakJCeBorLshKOybFMWaSBr3JUBn4S8C_EQEpf4xl4XT1uQUnRvdZFeT-RoMZWenmTv-g2_nMlRskPsCUmdmfQscpPwWnVzELXp0nIGUP1cy4SbMy8x7kYRFFjc/s1600/_MG_0703.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytrfFCvZxdrLNn56BRakJCeBorLshKOybFMWaSBr3JUBn4S8C_EQEpf4xl4XT1uQUnRvdZFeT-RoMZWenmTv-g2_nMlRskPsCUmdmfQscpPwWnVzELXp0nIGUP1cy4SbMy8x7kYRFFjc/s200/_MG_0703.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524642571198298898" /></a><br /><br />In the short time that I spent at their home this past Sunday, I just touched upon who they are. Dave is her rock, the girls are what keeps her going and brings so much laughter and chaos into her daily life that she has little time to wallow in her own sorrow and pain. That is not to say that she wasn't able to focus on herself, her illness or her needs but that the family life gave her the levity that she needed. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUVBedCnO0rclpfBjHfl390NzNemekWeKOFDwpsKnbAIOWds4zMkKFkGElHG4F36r6Yy9iq0goYngIagvTQZXmBp_mmdHjLYGT28cP5IlREhuzg6AED-GPveCW4tUYohoJxa9-p7uprI/s1600/_MG_0731.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUVBedCnO0rclpfBjHfl390NzNemekWeKOFDwpsKnbAIOWds4zMkKFkGElHG4F36r6Yy9iq0goYngIagvTQZXmBp_mmdHjLYGT28cP5IlREhuzg6AED-GPveCW4tUYohoJxa9-p7uprI/s200/_MG_0731.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524643084216775282" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLkVllDAYf04o3gEMkxkBZRb9r7MOJWhMoGvWp877epzNItBIR9Y9mAz-o6yE4NvzOZ-Clh6z06EltlBeoAhVizMEhYQN3NrdmZSFxNmYoUb19H6UM_Cb6h0Y7k6MaJpLxtWwQsgLc5Q/s1600/_MG_0754.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLkVllDAYf04o3gEMkxkBZRb9r7MOJWhMoGvWp877epzNItBIR9Y9mAz-o6yE4NvzOZ-Clh6z06EltlBeoAhVizMEhYQN3NrdmZSFxNmYoUb19H6UM_Cb6h0Y7k6MaJpLxtWwQsgLc5Q/s200/_MG_0754.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524643663079364690" /></a><br /><br />I learned of Mary's support staff beside her loved ones,family and friends which included her neighbors who prepared meals for them so that she would have one less thing to worry about during her monthly chemo sessions. Chemo drains so much of your strength and with young children, you need as much as you can garnish. There was a hair cutting party that Malia and Alexa were a part of. They cut her pigtails and she donned a pixie do before the loss of her tresses. The girls are young but understood that Mommy was sick and needed their help. They were a big part of her joy and helped keep her balanced. <br /><br />I am sure there were plenty of dark and dismal times when she was wrapped tightly in Dave's arms at night. Fear of the unknown comes into play and can be hard to shake. In first meeting Mary, none of that was lingering. Dave thinks she is incredible and her strength most likely bolstered his own. They would fight this disease which ravishes one's body, trying to seep its cold fingers into one's heart and soul. The power of love!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUHEdteed06r5pkyFF6nPcI6j5edQt7S441KPIsxds7BP2TKkWKdwUX8jfi1q20kFHJhhVe4G3gxXArgJ2bj5vOw0G_F9i3b9rCp_ZRwEa1KuC-QfhKa1AgoYKS-ngsBcGKIxvGehuTQ/s1600/_MG_0784.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 143px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUHEdteed06r5pkyFF6nPcI6j5edQt7S441KPIsxds7BP2TKkWKdwUX8jfi1q20kFHJhhVe4G3gxXArgJ2bj5vOw0G_F9i3b9rCp_ZRwEa1KuC-QfhKa1AgoYKS-ngsBcGKIxvGehuTQ/s200/_MG_0784.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524644080179698274" /></a>Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-28981002522721869352010-06-05T07:21:00.001-07:002010-06-05T07:29:07.701-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMlj8MtLNEPJlxM12AI4YyXdC5TYvGilIdwOdP5gn1vKiyOJDXAFQ_8YBZxWBBgytQPeMh_VyrpiXLM5-iY9IFDs4T1T1yaxTAAvVZ60zfkvkNiJ2NkDjKt2LkE5j7RZckwgWj-TUeT8/s1600/_MG_0019.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 177px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMlj8MtLNEPJlxM12AI4YyXdC5TYvGilIdwOdP5gn1vKiyOJDXAFQ_8YBZxWBBgytQPeMh_VyrpiXLM5-iY9IFDs4T1T1yaxTAAvVZ60zfkvkNiJ2NkDjKt2LkE5j7RZckwgWj-TUeT8/s200/_MG_0019.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479296485696610066" /></a><br />Lately Jene and I have been busy with a few road trips and haven't been keeping up with what's happening in NY. But we try to cram everything in that comes our way, which keeps us busy.<br /><br />I still have to edit through a photoshoot that I did the end of May and am creating a wonderful book for the parents of twins through our Labor Of Love Pix fine art portraits - weddings, bump, birth and beyond. The little ladies were just a little over 3 months and although don't do very much, we were entertained by them for hours on end. Offering to babysit while the parents enjoyed a quiet dinner without juggling forks and babies. A wonderful evening for all. I wanted to include a few intimate moments between the mother and the girls in their book. Talk about sugar and spice...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This is the ultimate love story as far as I'm concerned. There is no greater bond than between a mother and her babies and so worth the many sleepless nights. The dad took the opportunity to catch a few zzzzzs on the couch. They grow so quickly and both Jene and I are thrilled to make time stand still for this loving family.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-21894681363723313682010-04-23T07:11:00.001-07:002010-04-23T08:03:07.296-07:00I'm back... ( BUT without a vengeance) I LOVE my job!Way too much time has past since I've put any effort into our LOLP blog. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Klgyyv8hUq277Hk6OKXi3XojWMA2rBu4MF98LCSyzgDIz1UngwXbfzMT4pKenR4GqYqA3iN1Zs4fLYGgKqIiDDMEPB44QKpgeIcwze7xU_hWOJuH8JE13f4Qf_h8ZqGk-1uElSNfpCI/s1600/Picture+6.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 60px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Klgyyv8hUq277Hk6OKXi3XojWMA2rBu4MF98LCSyzgDIz1UngwXbfzMT4pKenR4GqYqA3iN1Zs4fLYGgKqIiDDMEPB44QKpgeIcwze7xU_hWOJuH8JE13f4Qf_h8ZqGk-1uElSNfpCI/s200/Picture+6.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463347325111195570" /></a> <br /><br />Trying to think of ways to drum up business takes up 75% of my daylight hours. Photographing / creating about 5% and editing images 20% and then there is LIFE which gets squeezed in.<br /><br />Life is good, I recently went on a whirl wind trip in 15 days to Hong Kong, Melbourne, Sydney AU, Auckland, NZ. Countless hours spent to and from airports and in the air but a once in a lifetime experience none-the-less. <br /><br />Before I headed overseas, Jene and I photographed the babies (all girls) of 2 of our recent "bump" portrait sessions. The twins were 15 days old the other pipsqueak was just 9 days. I think I had more fun holding the twins before setting them into position and had to cuddle them when they started to fuss. Jene's fatherly instincts came back to him quickly remembering how soothing holding a baby close to your heart is (for them and yourself). It was a pleasure having the twins at the studio in NJ. The instant you take a diaper off a baby is when they seem to like to pee. Blankets, props and drop clothes were tossed into the ivory snow wash. Less clean-up for us shooting the other in the comfort of their home. (We shot the bare-bottom baby on their family room leather couch propped with their pillow and baby blankets. (I'm sure they were happy we didn't choose the LR's new sectional). <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gxAN_ICPTGd2-BlmjmayYkE9pDGglhXLe-ZHVEYrX37dFkepuG1881gtDzPaKj9TMOIi1ATYrTIaGMApYviKaco_sZNjvX3Quh2nY7RGcviLz8oDsBHFbIJnybXzZXUw2koiGxuNqMM/s1600/%C2%A9_MG_9922+copy.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gxAN_ICPTGd2-BlmjmayYkE9pDGglhXLe-ZHVEYrX37dFkepuG1881gtDzPaKj9TMOIi1ATYrTIaGMApYviKaco_sZNjvX3Quh2nY7RGcviLz8oDsBHFbIJnybXzZXUw2koiGxuNqMM/s200/%C2%A9_MG_9922+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463345348645456578" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmMG_DB2EPDTTESBsZrY9ByYYNaqAiAJCfo3IXVbYNlBXxjNWLS9KMKg5ZdyJ0cX1hgBoEdv9wwp5-hVXJWMszV20CsIDz-CUvn-jPoTQ6HVHEoiHdK4rcgyljchu2r231BiF29PojtQ/s1600/_MG_9606+copy.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 199px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmMG_DB2EPDTTESBsZrY9ByYYNaqAiAJCfo3IXVbYNlBXxjNWLS9KMKg5ZdyJ0cX1hgBoEdv9wwp5-hVXJWMszV20CsIDz-CUvn-jPoTQ6HVHEoiHdK4rcgyljchu2r231BiF29PojtQ/s200/_MG_9606+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463342593202981458" /></a><br /><br />Feel free to peruse our website <a href="http://LaborOfLovePix.com">Labor Of Love Pix</a> so you can see more of our work.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-10754157745996220912010-04-19T07:02:00.000-07:002010-04-19T07:48:45.934-07:00Time helps heal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGoxytnX9iclaCFPTkxWbg_WBqcKVAA_AMZD1F3ht0QCD2UyPYGPJJkwc3TDSjCxt7rof-wGWO42YK41YUnuNTYfu67aJxQ_afNqmtgFXkj5YVVIIedP_kswlNHPJHAAktyroX1iz9Zfw/s1600/_MG_6230+copy.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGoxytnX9iclaCFPTkxWbg_WBqcKVAA_AMZD1F3ht0QCD2UyPYGPJJkwc3TDSjCxt7rof-wGWO42YK41YUnuNTYfu67aJxQ_afNqmtgFXkj5YVVIIedP_kswlNHPJHAAktyroX1iz9Zfw/s200/_MG_6230+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461858781223882306" /></a><br />It's been a while since I've written about Carmen and her journey with breast cancer. She recently underwent reconstructive surgery. I've spent some of my time in trying to solicite art grant funds but so far to no avail. I would like to photograph more women who have gone through their mastectomies and are now on the healing side of life. Physically and emotionally coming to terms with having lost a body part and coming out the other end of it where they are now feeling whole again - AND beautiful because they are. <br /><br /><br /><br />Carmen was my initial inspiration and my friend Deb agreed to work with me on this project. Carmen has the dark haired siren look and attitude about herself which I absolutely love. Deb is gorgeous, a Marilyn Monroe type of face and curves. A woman who inherited her mother's flair for style and exuded confidence without flaunting it. (Margaret, the apple didn't fall very far from the tree - you were someone I thought epitomized class, grace and strength of character and virtue at every turn). <br /><br />I am looking to work with other women, age doesn't matter, heart does! So if you are a woman (in the NY/NJ Metro area) who is about to undergo or already have undergone a mastectomy and would like to become a part of my artistic personal project. Please contact me. My ultimate goal is to photograph you as the beautiful women you are, exhibiting in art galleries and publishing an art book. Take a look at my website so you can see that I capture the essence and emotions of women. (nudity is not necessary if you are uncomfortable) but I want to show your beauty and strength.<br /><br />websites: <a href="http://marywehrhahn.musecube.com/">www.marywehrhahn.com </a><br /> <a href="http://laboroflovepix.com/">http://laboroflovepix.com</a><br /> <br />Mary Durante Wehrhahn<br />(201) 703-4326Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-33898954799148159392010-02-03T11:34:00.000-08:002010-02-16T11:02:48.913-08:00A scar is just a line drawn...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSamKtsnvl7a3XG6T_xdU1oN8Y4wIZ6-iGvcrgq6GdGUqoT9C2kLCXBF1qFAF9iOhcfrQ56ruPohgVaSxQ_zhTjsej1vwDUBur2hvxgovzAQGHKiEL434yAdkOOJeio6pk1ka99AlGMdI/s1600-h/_MG_7831+copy.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSamKtsnvl7a3XG6T_xdU1oN8Y4wIZ6-iGvcrgq6GdGUqoT9C2kLCXBF1qFAF9iOhcfrQ56ruPohgVaSxQ_zhTjsej1vwDUBur2hvxgovzAQGHKiEL434yAdkOOJeio6pk1ka99AlGMdI/s200/_MG_7831+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438918043425289106" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWt4ZUW8-tSlWj6W_uurb0k469RVQced9gVI9FC9bEm04RGP1aedRnJxNSfXfzuaWBiKigWbjmgWR2dTCjuf1ehGuMDOqIZp6O_EuOD3U2vNbTcWFweZNd3N68U3QqLxxO6g_fpnXC-gU/s1600-h/_MG_7738.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWt4ZUW8-tSlWj6W_uurb0k469RVQced9gVI9FC9bEm04RGP1aedRnJxNSfXfzuaWBiKigWbjmgWR2dTCjuf1ehGuMDOqIZp6O_EuOD3U2vNbTcWFweZNd3N68U3QqLxxO6g_fpnXC-gU/s200/_MG_7738.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438917351926954834" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It's not that I am finished working with Carmen's journey with breast cancer . BUT I am extending what has now become a personal art project for me. I have to thank Carmen for being the driving force. It the the verbalization of her need to feel that she is just as beautiful a woman after her mastectomy, that has me advancing my scope to show other women, who are living with breast cancer, as the beautiful creatures that they are.<br /><br /><br /><br />This has grown in scope due to the fact that other people have contacted me through my blog and are thrilled to read Carmen's story and to know that I am echoing their voices too.<br /><br />My dear friend, who underwent a mastectomy and DEIP reconstructive surgery 6 months ago, agreed to be my subject, posing nude and partially draped in fabrics. She has a Marilyn Monroe quality to her and I wanted to bring that out. We had a rushed photo shoot because we spent a little too much time chatting over lunch but I loved some of the images I captured. I would like the opportunity to invite her husband to the next session because he is a big part of her recovery. Deb agreed to be a part of a photo essay. She was nice enough to invite me to her restorative yoga session where I hope to recruit other women to be a part of this photojournal.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJXfabHAvrL1kFNOFe2SuAVXuk-9FT3EJRIB4H2Tb6cvZEVs79Hmg_TlVVPZ8b2lOc7SmNNUKJ1m6gp5xhvpBM408HVSGm5u7tVO6fTEu3mckFpbgKx3MlGWoiDKhhPESL2RKCsd52_o/s1600-h/crop_MG_8625+copy.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJXfabHAvrL1kFNOFe2SuAVXuk-9FT3EJRIB4H2Tb6cvZEVs79Hmg_TlVVPZ8b2lOc7SmNNUKJ1m6gp5xhvpBM408HVSGm5u7tVO6fTEu3mckFpbgKx3MlGWoiDKhhPESL2RKCsd52_o/s200/crop_MG_8625+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434115142382101602" border="0"></a><br /><br />The women in my photo essay will have the right of refusal of images used and content and will give written approval to me as the creator before publication.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-30718933887692898452010-01-05T08:24:00.000-08:002010-01-12T10:23:21.746-08:00After effects...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKT6d9SMAKHQh4JdOWM5lhetY6Ar24I1lXxqoZ-skluSlJ7bEwKBbRjv9F8D5Z2apnllx79aNNkZ4moM6raBASLgPSGcfUsHwYNo9cDN5-7E9Y7mmo7yl8nC3Vsv48leob3w7Yn9yur68/s1600-h/_MG_7811+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKT6d9SMAKHQh4JdOWM5lhetY6Ar24I1lXxqoZ-skluSlJ7bEwKBbRjv9F8D5Z2apnllx79aNNkZ4moM6raBASLgPSGcfUsHwYNo9cDN5-7E9Y7mmo7yl8nC3Vsv48leob3w7Yn9yur68/s320/_MG_7811+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425920596809342322" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Although Carmen asked me not to post any further pictures or to blog more about her because she would rather work on the book that we are developing; I just wanted to let everyone know how remarkable this woman is. And that she is doing well. Of course she is no more remarkable then the women who went before her or those who unfortunately will follow after on this journey one takes when you hear the words "You have breast cancer".<br /><br />She is looking forward to going back to work. It's been 5 weeks since her double mastectomy, stage 1 cancer. I photographed her yesterday and must admit, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to capture her beauty the way I wanted to. We shot in her house with natural light and both of us loved the images I captured. Her healing process is not over but she is well on her way.<br /><br /><br /><br />Yes, she is plagued by fears, worse case scenarios dance through her mind, racing at night when she lies in her bed, but she brightens as she wakes to the light of day. Her attitude is hopeful, she grabs onto the horns of life with both hands and tries to get the most out of the ride.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-79028570303362884552009-12-02T15:15:00.000-08:002009-12-04T10:14:40.856-08:00Ready or not, here we come....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8kSYbpa_NvHXZnJVrk2MKO58OZ3cFcOoRgYHdjl5cSYimewRQHk6QSJbKYeai5XlAJ4ad7SHnUpcMHWXdMrSKi-ASwOt4inTrK21fvB7DOtSbeZ9ugliuZk8fH_cAHJ6BvEx7bacWWA/s1600-h/_MG_0218+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8kSYbpa_NvHXZnJVrk2MKO58OZ3cFcOoRgYHdjl5cSYimewRQHk6QSJbKYeai5XlAJ4ad7SHnUpcMHWXdMrSKi-ASwOt4inTrK21fvB7DOtSbeZ9ugliuZk8fH_cAHJ6BvEx7bacWWA/s320/_MG_0218+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411001500959294754" border="0" /></a>Jene and I hoped that we could get more of a story and Carmen's feelings as well as her mother's and sister's as she went into the hospital, from a humanistic standpoint. At first the time told to us was 10:00am as the ETA which would have enabled me to meet Jene there. Carmen and Jene spoke the night before after the hospital had set the time to 7:30am with 2:00 surgery time . Jene thought he could handle this by himself, knowing what pictures we wanted to help convey her story.<br /><br />Jene woke up early (6am, early for him), walked the dog, who wondered what was going on and why were they going for a walk in the middle of the night). He wasn't prepared for Carmen even though she called him as he was walking to the subway and told him of her migraine.<br /><br />When the car arrived and mom brought out Carmen holding her up with Carmen's head on her shoulders he felt he had to help. When a man comes into the picture, they are in charge - oops there goes the photographic control. Now Jene had to answer questions from the guard while getting a wheel chair.<br /><br />Carmen is telling anyone who will listen where she needs to go. At least the admitting office was empty of people and we were able to get papers signed, four or five signatures.<br /><br />Off to the Cromin building for radiation. Meet another doctor, sign more forms, and Carmen's breast is injected with dye, a picture is taken, which is given to them to bring to the OR (One would think that it could be computerized and sent to the operating room in an instant).<br /><br />Jene recognizes the codependency tendencies in Carmen and in himself because he went through some similar situations in his childhood and relationships afterward. Finally he realized his issues and sought help with <a href="http://www.caron.org/treatment-services/">Caron org</a>. , a recovery organization.<br /><br />Anyway, back to the subject.<br />Undergoing a mastectomy is not to be taken lightly, both Jene & I agree that it is a terrible disease that effects so many women and their families. Most shy away from the limelight. Carmen gravitates towards it. We are not passing judgement because that is not our role. We are telling a story, her story and relating it to the commonality that most women would feel even if they chose not to share it publicly.<br /><br />Carmen is not the only woman to lose her breasts, just one who is crying out to be heard, to let everyone know how it feels, what she is going through and how she is trying to cope with it.<br />Jene and I are trying to tell her story because it does effect so many women, ones too shy or private to talk about it publicly. Ones who only shared their most intimate feelings and fears with their family and close friends as I have with Jene.<br /><br />Women who don't want to have people wonder which breast is the real one in hushed whispers. Hopefully bringing her story out into the open will help others understand that a woman still has the same feelings, thoughts, dreams and desires as she did before having a breast or two removed. Both of us feel uneasy, being in the middle of someone else's life, a stranger for all intent and purposes. We are hearing intimate details of all phases of her life and are trying to strike a balance between sensationalizing someone's pain and getting her story out. Neither one of us are professional journalists or investigative reporters just 2 photographers who are trying to connect with others through our images and words mixed with love.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-28773660974816813032009-12-01T09:15:00.000-08:002009-12-01T09:58:05.470-08:00Letting go and moving forwardAs survivors, we seek hope in the ruins of despair. It doesn't matter what you are going through, we can all relate to feeling the darkness and loneliness that despair brings to our doorsteps. Feelings we must recognize, accept and try to let go of. The letting go part is the hardest, we cling to things for fear of the unknown. We hold our pain close to our hearts instead of releasing it and opening our hearts to be filled with all the blessings we do have. And we do have many, which is realized when you start to count them, even the smallest ones.<br />I wake every morning, happy to have woken. A new day - a new start. I try to let go of the little hurts that plague me, not the physical aches, but the ones we try to brush aside. This is where hope comes in. But hope alone can't change anything unless you are willing to change. Why do we think that if we keep walking down the same path, that we won't meet upon the same obstacles. Stubborn? Stupid? We think we can change something, someone solely with our persistence or our love.<br /><br />I am as stubborn as they come, I used to say that I would bang my head against a wall trying to break through and that my daughter would say hmmmmm a door, let me go <span style="font-weight: bold;">that</span> way. I would think ahhhhhh, the path of least resistance, that's not a good road to take... HELLO! yes sometimes it is. Now I only bang my head against it a few times before I say DUH. Jene calls me a "slow learner", sometimes I am, <span style="font-weight: bold;">BUT I am learning ;-)</span>. <br /><br />When did I have my first real epiphany - nearly 20 years ago (hence the "slow learner" status). It is a long story and not really relevant other than to say you can't always effect the change you want especially if it has to do with another person - all you can do is change how you deal with it. You can only affect change in yourself, in order to let go of the suffering in your life. It doesn't take it away, it just allows you to function in a emotionally healthier way that leads to growth, peace and serenity. (This is something that just about everyone is aware of and having my degree in Pscyhology made me more aware but then there's the "talking the talk & then the walking the walk" syndrome).<br /><br />Carmen has enough to deal with breast cancer and yet finds herself walking down the same road in other areas of her life. I hope that along with the physical pain that she will overcome that she can let go of all her pain and heal from the inside out. <br /><br />And while Jene and I want to help her tell her story, it is because it is not something that is unique to Carmen. Breast cancer affects nearly 1 in 7 women. It is a story of what women go through, their fight to survive, to live a full life again, to love and be loved because of who they are. But isn't this what all of us want anyway - to be understood, to be comforted, to be held close when we are scared to death, to connect to one another, to be a part of the whole picture.<br /><br />Good luck today Carmen, and to all the other's out there - good luck to you too.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-48349635614560764522009-11-29T19:30:00.000-08:002009-11-30T18:17:25.400-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8loUytSNXMcXCvxlCAdI1Q-lrQ4XTtNllAPpPhveLerq3mHAcTRgFPkWuuuvASQ8LdxQVVLxqxXCRQxShHWqoRz5_sU0wDgVJgizTXTzCiiYXARX2e_7Or7VJB5tdmvsWFPsTuyAuB4/s1600/_MG_0140.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8loUytSNXMcXCvxlCAdI1Q-lrQ4XTtNllAPpPhveLerq3mHAcTRgFPkWuuuvASQ8LdxQVVLxqxXCRQxShHWqoRz5_sU0wDgVJgizTXTzCiiYXARX2e_7Or7VJB5tdmvsWFPsTuyAuB4/s320/_MG_0140.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410022211683252194" border="0" /></a>Saturday night we met Carmen at a dance studio where she has spent many hours twirling to "hustle" music. We were hoping to catch her enjoying herself on the floor before she undergoes her surgery on Tuesday.<br /><br /><br />But a cloud hung over her.<br /><br />The hostess, her friend Donna made announcements about the dance, parking and future events at the studio. She also called Carmen up front and center to let everyone know what their fellow dancer and friend about to undergo and the journey she is on. The reality and impending surgery got the best of Carmen and she understandably broke down. Her intent is to let people know in hopes of helping other women and their families when they are faced with this "doom". It would have been too much for most people to expose publicly but she wants people to understand what she and women go through. I was caught off guard by being called out as her photographers and story tellers, as I'm not comfortable in any limelight. She needs all the love and understanding she can garnish. Friends huddled around her like a protective barrier. One fella said she should stay and dance. Dance like no one is watching is what came to my mind.<br /><br />I feel at odds documenting this because what I wanted to capture was the sheer joy of dance and I don't think I/we managed it very well. But this is part of her story and this is our goal.<br />I do feel strongly about helping Carmen through this and I know my blog has touched other people because I've been contacted by a few who told me how my words have struck home with them and how they smile through their tears. I want her to know that we are accomplishing her goal. To connect in a most humanistic way.<br /><br />Carmen tried to fill her last week with fun, hosting along with her sister on Thanksgiving Eve at Macy's and then viewing the parade from VIP seating.<br /><br />I can't begin to fathom what she is going through the day before her surgery, I can only liken it to when my daughter was 8 years old and a tumor was discovered in her sinus cavity. Bolstered by mother at my side; knowing how very painful it was for her to idly watch as I crumbled inwardly; they wheeled my baby into the O.R. for the biopsy. There is nothing anyone can do or say to quiet your deepest fears. The days between the biopsy and the results were excruciatingly torturous for me. All the well wishes and the have faiths fell on deaf ears. At long last, the word <span style="font-weight: bold;">benign</span> was heaven sent but the tumor was still growing and had to be removed. My sister came with me on the 4th of July to admit her. She wanted crispy KFC for dinner, that's what she remembers the most. The fact that I had to leave my baby alone for the night in a strange hospital still does not sit well with me. I'm sure she was scared, I know I was. Scared to death but somehow I mustered up all my strength to kiss her goodnight and bravely walk away. On the upside, two adult patients that befriended her took her to another floor to view the fireworks. Her father was at my side during the surgery, it wasn't a big help but at least we clung to each other. She was fine; wonderful doctors and nurses cared for her and I knew that my Father was watching over her too. BUT I was shaken to my core. I still remember her teeth chattering uncontrollably as they took her away from me.<br /><br />In one way, I am glad that Jene said he would meet Carmen at the hospital for document this segment of her journey. I don't know if I could look at her mother and sister without dredging up my own past fears. No Carmen is not a child, but she is her mother's baby and always will be. She will always be Lilliana's baby sister even at this age. These feelings cannot be shaken off easily and sleep will not come easily to the Mendez family tonight. All the unthinkable thoughts will run through their weary heads tonight no matter how hard they try. Carmen will be in the care of her doctor and his team soon and my hearts go out to this family and I wish them all well. There are plenty of people that care about this women and Jene & I have become a part of this circle. Good luck Carmen, and I will see you soon.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-74434325670329127172009-11-27T21:37:00.000-08:002009-11-30T08:22:26.848-08:00reconstruction surgery has come a long wayThis is a link about breast cancer surgery and <a href="http://www.orlive.com/chp/videos/breast-reconstruction-deep-inferior-epigastric-perforator?cmpid=active_redirect">deep flap reconstructive surgery</a> that my friend underwent. It shows her complete surgery. The upside is hearing from the last woman who talked about how complete her life is. She is happy.<br /><br />Thank you Deborah for sharing this with me/us.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-28421778740567007692009-11-27T05:40:00.000-08:002009-11-27T06:48:48.277-08:00Assistance available - reach outYesterday was Thanksgiving, so much to be thankful for and so much more to hope for. HOPE, something that we all need to cling to when times seems bleak. Jene & I along with all Carmen's friends, family and acquaintances hope that the outcome will be the best possible for Carmen and for all the women out there who are faced with this disease.<br /><br />I spent nearly an hour on the phone with my friend Deborah, who recently underwent a mastectomy. She was diagnosed early with the very first stage - DCIS. Her hormone levels were high. Deborah and her husband did their research and decided along with her doctor to have the mastectomy, no cancer was not found in her lymph node so it was agreed that chemo or radiation was not a necessary treatment. She had reconstructive surgery using her own body's fat tissue. The advancements amaze me at times and researchers recently discovered that actual breast tissue has grown back in laboratory rats. Of course it is years away from testing on humans but the potential benefits are astounding.<br /><br />I told her about the story that Carmen wanted to tell and how it evolved from before and after pictures to her journey that Jene & I are photographing. Admitting that she wished she had more than a bad mirror image of herself before her surgery, I'm guessing that she is not alone is that thought. Maybe it's a vanity thing, or is it a reminder of who you are, and that you really are the same person before and after a mastectomy. Maybe it's more than that, I don't know.<br /><br />Benefits of support groups - and she highly recommended <a href="http://www.sharecancersupport.org/?lang=en-us">SHARE</a> You are put in a group with other women going through the same stages that you are, whether it's before or after your surgery. Their warmth, candor and support helped answer a lot of her questions, even overcoming some of her fears.<br /><br />We talked about <a href="http://www.breastcancer.org/treatment/comp_med/new_research/20080310.jsp">alternative holistic treatments</a> such as acupuncture for pain management and yoga for gently stretching the muscles after surgery. <a href="http://www.omyoga.com/">OM yoga</a> in the city was Deb's choice and she still goes. She did have some acupuncture BUT her health insurance didn't cover it. To me, that is a major issue with health coverage - in 1995, I paid a little over $1000 for 2 treatments per week for 3 months for allergies and have not suffered since. NOT covered by insurance. Yet my insurance company would have paid 1000 times more if I had gotten weekly allergy shots and medication in the almost 15 years that have past. My feeling... it was the best $1000 I've ever spent in my life.<br />I've noticed that because of insurance coverage people don't want to pay anything for their health but will pay more than that on maintaining their precious cars. Getting back to the subject....<br /><br />My intent with today's blog was to mention the support that is out there for Carmen and others in need. Reach out and someone will take hold out your hand.<br /><br />Namaste,Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-71193889600334264172009-11-24T16:57:00.000-08:002009-11-24T17:01:23.323-08:00Pink Gloves breast cancer awareness<span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif;"> Our daughter-in-law, Emily (MacInnes) Somers, created,<br />directed and choreographed this in Portland last week<br />for her Medline glove division as a fundraiser for<br />breast cancer awareness. This was all her idea to<br />help promote their new pink gloves. I don't know<br />how she got so many employees, doctors and patients to<br />participate, but it started to really catch on and they<br />all had a lot of fun doing it. When the video gets 1 million hits,<br />Medline will be making a huge contribution to the hospital, as<br />well as offering free mammograms for the community.<br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEdVfyt-mLw">Please check it out.</a> It's an easy and great<br />way to donate to a wonderful cause, and who hasn't<br />been touched by breast cancer?<br /><br />Ann Somers </span>Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-17208979033869816732009-11-24T07:16:00.000-08:002009-11-30T08:28:57.734-08:00When things get in your way....Life is funny, there are so many paths that one can choose, and you hope it leads you where you want to go. Sometimes it doesn't and the perfect job, perfect love, perfect anything eludes you. But you can chose to let go of what holds you back. When one door closes, another one opens.<br /><br />I met Jene by chance, I chose to listen to a friend who thought I needed a man in my life. We both decided to take a chance on each other, I was 54, he was 62. He brought my dreams into the forefront of my mind again. He decided it was time to turn his passion for photography into his life's work and retired. I must admit, I was a tad envious so at the age of 56, I chose to leave a very good paying job to pursue the arts once again. Many people thought I was crazy and maybe I was/am. I was too young to collect SS and couldn't collect on my 401K for years. I could live off savings for awhile and threw caution to the winds and took the leap. My co-workers all wished they were me. (No one ever wanted my life before that so it made me laugh). A gutsy move, I was out of my comfort zone.<br /><br />Art is one of the most beautiful forms of expression. You bear your soul because the way you see the world tells a lot about who you are. It is this connection through my photography that I try to make. That's is what I do, that is what I love.<br />When I photograph flowers, I try to bring the beauty in front of you, to make you stop and take a closer look. We all rush through life, by passing things we enjoy on our way to something else. When I capture children I find the innocence or wisdom in their eyes.<br /><br />I was separated from my husband 5 months after Danielle was born. When my daughter was young it would take me an hour to walk the 5 minutes to the grocery store. We stopped to watch the ants, to look at a flower, to seek out all of life's little pleasures.<br />We would fly kites at the park and enjoy each other. I had my own pottery shop/studio and she was with me daily. We had very little and money was scarce, so I had to get a real paying job.<br /><br />There was a period when because of work and stuff, I didn't have the time any longer. I worked 15 to 18 hours a day at least 4 days a week. I climbed the corporate ladder, I was saving for our future. At the age of 9, my daughter said "If I wanted to be an orphan, I wouldn't have had parents". I cried all night and handed in my letter of resignation the next day. I was going to spend the summer with her, enjoying every moment. Come Sept, for the first time, I walked her to school, she <span style="font-weight: bold;">did</span> have a mother, I worked at the school bake sale, she introduced me to her classmates... she was so happy to prove that she like all the other kids, had a mother.<br /><br />Of course I had to eventually go back to work and the same workload was upon me, late hours, when it finally dawned on me again, I quit. This time she was 12. The next job, I held for 19 years because the hours were normal and I could be home by 7, the latest. But as the complexion of corporate life changed this job became too stressful so I quit because of me.<br /><br />I wanted to simplify my life. What is it that I wanted to be when I grew up - an artist. I wanted to express my feelings, to see the beauty in the world and also to show the more introspective side of life. My "Inner Sanctum" series does that. It tells about the melancholy that pervades my body and soul... my thoughts, longings as well as the contentment that I feel when I walk through my darkened rooms, rooms that were once alive with the sounds of laughter and of love. These feeling envelope me, they bring me an odd sense of serenity and peace that I used to get when I'd wrap myself in the red cashmere sweater that I gave my mother, her scent lingered for years after she died. I would sit alone in the dark and weep sweet tears because I felt secure in her love.<br /><br />I luxuriate in these feelings. I remember the summer before my daughter went off to college, I would look down at her sleeping body and see her as a baby; a 'dot' in her bed that turned into a 'dash' and is now a 'line' that spanned from her pillow to the foot of the bed. My baby, my dear sweet baby was grown. Where did the time go? How lucky I am, how utterly blessed I felt. I wouldn't trade my life for any other in this world. I surround myself with these feelings and it is wonderful. I cherish the moments spent in the arms of my lover after he returns to his apt. I stand in the doorway of the room that my granddaughters shared when they lived with me, I look at a few stuff toys they left behind for future visits. They took 2 of my bears when they moved so they could sleep with them and always be reminded of nonna. I tell them I am never far, because I am always in their hearts as they are in mine. It is a comfort to know that, to feel that deep in your core. This is what I gave them - memories to cherish when the moments are gone. This is what is important in life. To enjoy the people in your life whenever you can.<br /><br />By chance, Carmen came into our lives, and now other people are reaching out to me. They wished I was in their lives back then... when they were going through their own pain. They have their own stories to tell. They relate... We are all on this planet together and it is only when you connect that you don't feel so all alone.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-66187178605337467292009-11-23T15:52:00.000-08:002009-12-06T10:12:28.004-08:00Written and read by Carmen's niece Evita.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgHk9jds35BzBjsGTsVVwaTZpQqmRXBQPSGveIh0fGZcNkyW4yy6FDnwfNYOGxUKfLUJGs-ci63HqYAW6Yfz9fMLQ8c5nmm1KUAeN2shP-ZuRoNEbbc3D4mBzXVb5nmP3i-iuMMIWqu0/s1600/_MG_6605+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgHk9jds35BzBjsGTsVVwaTZpQqmRXBQPSGveIh0fGZcNkyW4yy6FDnwfNYOGxUKfLUJGs-ci63HqYAW6Yfz9fMLQ8c5nmm1KUAeN2shP-ZuRoNEbbc3D4mBzXVb5nmP3i-iuMMIWqu0/s320/_MG_6605+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407451887101498194" border="0" /></a><br />Carmen's niece Evita summed up everything that Carmen's friends and family were thinking. This is what she wrote:<br /><br />"F" cancer. "F" cancer and the way it robs a person of security. Of stillness and certainty. Of purpose and meaning. "F" the way it steals away the moments of laugher and shadows them with fear. F the way it erases the achievements, the experiences, the castle that was slaved over to build. I hate going to see her, though she tells me it means so much. I hate being faced with her morality. In knowing the possibilities, the statistics aren't the minimal sort that people scoff at before taking a dive. I hate seeing the look in her eyes. Despite the smile she puts on for all of us, I see the pain and the anger. I hate that just when she starts to laugh the impending future reers it vicious head. I hate that she's come to terms with death. It's easy to order her to fight, it's easy to command her strength, it's easy to flood her with nice things to say and assuring pats on the back. It's what people do when there's nothing to say. Everyone's too afraid to tell her that it's okay to be scared, it's okay to be angry, it's okay to want to scream at the top of thier lungs and cry until she's barely able to catch her breath. There are no words to say, nothing I can do to make any of it better. I hate that.<br /><br />I want to fix it. Like a mother watching her child suffer, I want to pick up the pieces and sew and glue it all back together for her. I want to magically turn the dial and put us back in a time that smelled of perfection and glowed with warmth. I want to hear her laughter without the falling silence moments afterward. I want her to go back to talking about her exciting plans, not the precautionary ones. I want to see the calm serenity in every inch of her face that onced lingered. I want to cradle her in my arms like a child and confidently, knowingly tell her everything will be okay. I want to unzip my chest and tuck her away into the safety of my heart. But I can't. I'm left, like everyone else that loves her to stand aside and watch. It leaves me wanting to rip out my hair, slam my head against a wall out of fear and panic. It all sounds so selfish, but in the end that's what people are. We want the ones we love for us, because we need them. We're so intricately connected that every second she goes through this, we're right there, suffering with her. We feel it, too.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozsdHVk4JNaPHi6A7Jv8o_BYpI9PI8JDsX-R0pcaVBCNICm7FXMrZkwpOhi6VTZHej64heOPVnWtBxqxRwpVs6VKWGJNy7KBfOySszyuUgKMJ2UJ-NXtFJNsjFMUXsB7slwej6Mhj4yU/s1600/_MG_6611+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozsdHVk4JNaPHi6A7Jv8o_BYpI9PI8JDsX-R0pcaVBCNICm7FXMrZkwpOhi6VTZHej64heOPVnWtBxqxRwpVs6VKWGJNy7KBfOySszyuUgKMJ2UJ-NXtFJNsjFMUXsB7slwej6Mhj4yU/s320/_MG_6611+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407452084664381058" border="0" /></a>Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-78258147621464627762009-11-21T05:05:00.000-08:002009-11-23T15:57:29.733-08:00Tears give way to laughter when love fills a room.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsUxb03bwvjKUA4xF7CA4eSSZyj3dPabwi6jXq0ou4-Ny_ud3V52YReqGJTXXIrsCUh7mFkN46GPTtsTIRObDWMMRrFmWDh4a4uhD2oDl9I_2s9vx0vi3nLsK7KKEYMbGcnZprSoyAPM/s1600/_MG_6705+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsUxb03bwvjKUA4xF7CA4eSSZyj3dPabwi6jXq0ou4-Ny_ud3V52YReqGJTXXIrsCUh7mFkN46GPTtsTIRObDWMMRrFmWDh4a4uhD2oDl9I_2s9vx0vi3nLsK7KKEYMbGcnZprSoyAPM/s320/_MG_6705+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407404343014375282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvRXgO5iT_2W612frozbuj8PG-rhGeBeV8gShu7jsimNTW32Zf_HQnk2jGOCI0fDb2VvyjjRRuBrv56olFJ1pd9AioNO7xS-gxl6m-X5EIzrNuvKnaYceAO0y0LJQtVc2SH9kz0z15AY/s1600/_MG_9952+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvRXgO5iT_2W612frozbuj8PG-rhGeBeV8gShu7jsimNTW32Zf_HQnk2jGOCI0fDb2VvyjjRRuBrv56olFJ1pd9AioNO7xS-gxl6m-X5EIzrNuvKnaYceAO0y0LJQtVc2SH9kz0z15AY/s320/_MG_9952+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407400972559870834" border="0" /></a>Friday night Jene and I were invited over to Carmen's to meet some of her family and closest friends. Carol, a friend of 30 years, and Carmen's mother were there to greet us. It was here that I came to realize that Carmen, the daughter is her mother's namesake and family calls the mother<br />Carmen and her Maritza. We had time to speak alone to her mother and Carol (a long time cancer survivor). Carol has fibermyalgia and is not always feeling strong enough to leave her house but she made her way from the city to be by her dear friend's side. It was a strange gathering that touched upon "Tuesdays With Moorie". Carmen orchestrated this for our sake; as a way of getting to know her better because we are the product of those around us and who we are to them helps define who we are.<br /><br /><br />Her mother told me about raising 2 daughters alone and that sometimes her discipline may have seemed harsh but she needed them to learn life's lessons because she was working and wasn't home all the time. It's not easy being the mother, father and breadwinner. We raise our children as best we can under the circumstances. We are MOTHERS. This is not to say that fathers don't do the same but in most cases the rearing of the children is at the hands of the mothers. Carmen's father was pretty much out of the picture when her parents separated.<br /><br />Tears flowed as we spoke of a mother's pain, of feeling helpless when your child is sick, wishing to God that He transfer this disease to you and spare your child. Watching over her is not enough, being there is not enough. My heart breaks for this woman I had met only moments ago. I could be in her place. I have gone through the same anguish recently crawling into my daughter's hospital bed when what was thought of as her asthma symptoms was actually pulmonary embolisms on both her lungs - blood clots. My daughter was dying slowly and no one realized at first. There is no greater love than a mother's love and it doesn't stop.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjij02wyXSYvuzDjvL_4CAaZLyuWtG9gF-orVFL1epbY90MqxEq_kEuAu-EMHoplNdnSPpPb7-nYOyoZssk98APorIvYWDHHHfW5jWwaADzNsFvcT9ggNfZylBEyIq_z_KSMnCG0fxmsvw/s1600/_MG_6583+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjij02wyXSYvuzDjvL_4CAaZLyuWtG9gF-orVFL1epbY90MqxEq_kEuAu-EMHoplNdnSPpPb7-nYOyoZssk98APorIvYWDHHHfW5jWwaADzNsFvcT9ggNfZylBEyIq_z_KSMnCG0fxmsvw/s320/_MG_6583+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407401886949322930" border="0" /></a>Your babies are your babies at any age. To see an otherwise strong woman weep, can bring me to my knees. I wanted to crumble. Quickly I try to distance myself emotionally, I am here to tell a story because that is what I do.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvT8SkjXklI_XC8K-DEEKz6g0rMnoubJOHtwXKKnZa659MYEwVQhl-mflHNPUnh_9FmWH9EISQx8vzuwgXFcsafpSmatjL6VCl8koK6f8WdasmP4F-v-GwHMdqQz_ZfA37D2jae58tm0k/s1600/_MG_6608+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvT8SkjXklI_XC8K-DEEKz6g0rMnoubJOHtwXKKnZa659MYEwVQhl-mflHNPUnh_9FmWH9EISQx8vzuwgXFcsafpSmatjL6VCl8koK6f8WdasmP4F-v-GwHMdqQz_ZfA37D2jae58tm0k/s320/_MG_6608+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407403063868917426" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2usz8F1ubRy69-XJrrUuASGCq8VHNKXVwCkgywAw50eoIDGx-zwga3Hm756IzPAl8GX_gNp2XsI3qa_aO4TBtaX_IMeShm60nZFXK9z5ph4KtOf6y4-fLOzRwtRyvkYCrOkz6EMm74G8/s1600/_MG_6540+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2usz8F1ubRy69-XJrrUuASGCq8VHNKXVwCkgywAw50eoIDGx-zwga3Hm756IzPAl8GX_gNp2XsI3qa_aO4TBtaX_IMeShm60nZFXK9z5ph4KtOf6y4-fLOzRwtRyvkYCrOkz6EMm74G8/s320/_MG_6540+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407401542279253058" border="0" /></a>Lilliana, her older sister came next, feeling a bit awkward in the spotlight. Her daughter Evita brought her baby. We were in the midst of 4 generations. The baby brought smiles of joy into the room, little did she know that she was the emotional balance. Little by little, cousins and friends gathered.<br />Tears stained cheeks, sobs muffled by tight embraces, strong arms pulled Carmen in closer to their hearts.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmC-b1arrD9my7A1T1YspAiZKDnEvB0eC2T3J2MjtEI9PNpPpvYDmxu_MOZyuHpe-dAICtfRgp9Brs8Au6ROLqHwnhwweQeMFoZa5fkxOE1yD_lzYjO9wr4wFoxHmP8yox_hdj9oUvXmI/s1600/_MG_6592+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmC-b1arrD9my7A1T1YspAiZKDnEvB0eC2T3J2MjtEI9PNpPpvYDmxu_MOZyuHpe-dAICtfRgp9Brs8Au6ROLqHwnhwweQeMFoZa5fkxOE1yD_lzYjO9wr4wFoxHmP8yox_hdj9oUvXmI/s320/_MG_6592+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407402338768424258" border="0" /></a>Arrangements secretly made brought cousin, Lalo up from Puerto Rico to help bolster her strength. Jene & I explained how important this small cluster of people were. How we would gain a better insight into how she grew up "Maritza". The 3 cousins, Jeanette, Lalo and Maritza, cohorts in their youth spent together in P.R. Stories of sneaking out at night, screams of laughter broke through the somberness of the evening. Carmen is in her element.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAR5azjB204m7wNil_Us91vfSIWhAqYXF41kgNo856lxtvLeq8FR0StyITq7R6fwJ8ljgiP9VlV1sYtAfJgQSeSWPl9xz-0Nc7U6-udRp4HQcu1v-Sxqf0deao-pvETBwg1ea7De42Go/s1600/_MG_6586+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAR5azjB204m7wNil_Us91vfSIWhAqYXF41kgNo856lxtvLeq8FR0StyITq7R6fwJ8ljgiP9VlV1sYtAfJgQSeSWPl9xz-0Nc7U6-udRp4HQcu1v-Sxqf0deao-pvETBwg1ea7De42Go/s320/_MG_6586+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407402616713765634" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9EuUyH756bAlOaFx7hg5gSJVQshjpEapLswGub-3y_Z98Ak0-YDEpJoO1az1GsOemFmAJmMB_xoOJNpyWW6ujWlRxFeChxL0OtPyTCv3g-KmZ7eZdFvX3vvz74TMZELdsl5XtEztixo/s1600/_MG_6611+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9EuUyH756bAlOaFx7hg5gSJVQshjpEapLswGub-3y_Z98Ak0-YDEpJoO1az1GsOemFmAJmMB_xoOJNpyWW6ujWlRxFeChxL0OtPyTCv3g-KmZ7eZdFvX3vvz74TMZELdsl5XtEztixo/s320/_MG_6611+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407403167177466514" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHXdS4V7UK1skcEtZxxGN0YWshMnWNMtISRaN_6uAr3GEuFEaHIAZxiTBoSf3j_dr7BN4TAOpXqevZlrut_SzC6vRALB5RA3MSRAEKt8brly2KozanKEew620xNkDNLsGaRnbbMowVP4/s1600/_MG_6597+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHXdS4V7UK1skcEtZxxGN0YWshMnWNMtISRaN_6uAr3GEuFEaHIAZxiTBoSf3j_dr7BN4TAOpXqevZlrut_SzC6vRALB5RA3MSRAEKt8brly2KozanKEew620xNkDNLsGaRnbbMowVP4/s320/_MG_6597+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407402939547707794" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFYYH8oFuTnEpl2VX8ATw4m1lb0zXcDr9cjSqx94Z5QcD8qjUvfzeBE-ekkcNuendgKmWMXLdPpPgHxIdzZGRRe9pj2JuyfjDehTYx2_xzVostbbM23g8LwIu2BJv-gSBLsmmWXbQZiZU/s1600/_MG_6588+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFYYH8oFuTnEpl2VX8ATw4m1lb0zXcDr9cjSqx94Z5QcD8qjUvfzeBE-ekkcNuendgKmWMXLdPpPgHxIdzZGRRe9pj2JuyfjDehTYx2_xzVostbbM23g8LwIu2BJv-gSBLsmmWXbQZiZU/s320/_MG_6588+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407402811456817058" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVC82JHs_li2YEt-TZegntiDwsMauQ6j233abmEi3MCcYCYCmc5jg-VE5aAmPKzsDBRMYiPBgcWAOUEozNHMF-QXf4t-82SJBmmGPp1C0E4w_4SqB7vU1jvAJqjiMDYZhx1NZdIVTLY1E/s1600/_MG_6591+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVC82JHs_li2YEt-TZegntiDwsMauQ6j233abmEi3MCcYCYCmc5jg-VE5aAmPKzsDBRMYiPBgcWAOUEozNHMF-QXf4t-82SJBmmGPp1C0E4w_4SqB7vU1jvAJqjiMDYZhx1NZdIVTLY1E/s320/_MG_6591+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407404033012950994" border="0" /></a>Each spoke briefly, Evita wrote and read her feelings aloud to us - her anger and frustrations rang true in her words. ... "F" cancer and the way it robs a person of security..." "I hate being faced with her morality"... "I want to hear her laughter without the falling silence moments afterward" "I want to turn back the hands of time....Her fears echoed what other's held back. How dare this disease cripple a family, tossing them into their own isolated hells. It strips a woman of a part of her body, the scars will be visible, the trauma will be lasting but we all hope that Carmen Maritza will prevail. That her heart will remain full of the love that filled the room and will get her through the next phase of her life.<br />Thank you Harry, Carol, Jessie, Audrey, Debbie, Jeanette, Andy, Evita, Lalo, Michael and Carmen for sharing your stories with us and for bringing smiles back to Carmen's face. It's never easy to face cancer but it is a lot harder if you face it alone.<br />I will hold Carmen, her family and friends in the light.<br />Namaste.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-82030811877048281712009-11-20T11:02:00.000-08:002009-11-20T11:48:29.328-08:00Live for the moment<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb-VKks7p1toVLwWXStxSL3foK8NNuh0KKe7bDlP-_rb1avgyyoURN_MupLX4tROVn9K_aixBpIBTw4Q-L9jDBx-xiPwLekyg_5J7oQHZ9LEWhOVrV01jOpwsQGG7WzG3l6RZmsY8SjRk/s1600/sm.retouch_MG_4483+%281%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb-VKks7p1toVLwWXStxSL3foK8NNuh0KKe7bDlP-_rb1avgyyoURN_MupLX4tROVn9K_aixBpIBTw4Q-L9jDBx-xiPwLekyg_5J7oQHZ9LEWhOVrV01jOpwsQGG7WzG3l6RZmsY8SjRk/s320/sm.retouch_MG_4483+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406274104461551906" border="0" /></a>I have always been a firm believer in living each moment as if it was the last day of your life. That doesn't mean I'm not a planner or did not save for the future because I always have. BUT, I always try to live each day with as much joy and love that I can squeeze in. Because no one knows when it will be over for them or for someone they love.<br /><br />Funny, a former love once said that I've had everything I wanted in life. <span style="font-weight: bold;">WTF! </span> Did he think I wanted to give birth to a child and have my husband tell me he was in love with another? Did he think I wanted a child who spent enough time in hospitals with asthma? Did he think I wanted my only daughter to separate from her husband after having 2 babies and have her move in with me? <span style="font-weight: bold;">WANT!</span> I laughed. Well you always seem happy. As the tears streamed down my face - I choked out the words - "I chose to be happy". I chose to create a warm, and loving environment (not that life with a teenager was always loving). A home that was open to my daughter's friends. who would stay and talk to me about boyfriends even when she wasn't at home. I chose to make my life as good as I could...<br />As <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFRuLFR91e4">Edith Piaf</a> sang - Non, je ne regrette rien.<br /><br />I lived without a man in my life for 5 years before meeting Jene. And we laugh because neither of us was the other's type. But a relationship comes with ups and downs. 6 months into building a relationship, Jene had vascular surgery and I thought, he could die. He could be gone from me forever. At that time I wasn't even in love with him and I wondered where our relationship would end. <span style="font-weight: bold;">END</span>... I don't want to worry about that instead I would enjoy each moment while it lasted. <br /><br />I was there for my parents while they were alive.... little regrets if any. I was there for my daughter and my granddaughters and even my son-in-law. I was there for my friends when they needed me because when they are gone - I can't go back in time and be there for them ...<br /><br />People make fun of me, I've driven an hour north to be with a friend going through a divorce, then drove 2 hours south to be with a friend who's husband had died of lung cancer in a day. I fit it in because I want to, because I can, because it makes me happy. And yes, these are friends who in turn would be there for me at a drop of a hat.<br /><br />Another thing I've learned is when your heart is full of love, there is little room for hate. And it is gives you a nicer outlook on life.<br /><br />So my advice to all, especially when confronted with the thought of an end is to live for the moment and enjoy all that you can. (Of course without hurting anyone along your path - or doing anything illegal ;-) Count your blessings, enjoy what you have -<span style="font-weight: bold;"> not what you want, </span>look inwardly for your peace and serenity. Don't expect it to come form others. It's your life, make it a good one.<br /><br />Now I have encountered Carmen, a women facing a double mastectomy and I hope those around her heed my advise. Life is what you make of it. PERIODLabor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-4450420537641848452009-11-20T07:14:00.000-08:002009-11-20T08:50:20.318-08:00A radiant smile flashes, giving way to tears<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYC6dduW1o24qe0iwPJni4wgbXcbMxgo8SOvPloGDA_jquZBYdGGUvzEzrp4p5eak_8pV2JVu5LtUrmjAsDD9Uwnsq5Vf9GolMzmRVy_ZsBNGM7F96Vqcr8DkIKsmwwmiNmgkYkq65wk/s1600/_MG_6203+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYC6dduW1o24qe0iwPJni4wgbXcbMxgo8SOvPloGDA_jquZBYdGGUvzEzrp4p5eak_8pV2JVu5LtUrmjAsDD9Uwnsq5Vf9GolMzmRVy_ZsBNGM7F96Vqcr8DkIKsmwwmiNmgkYkq65wk/s320/_MG_6203+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406216659341456818" border="0" /></a>When I/we first decided to help Carmen develop her photo journal I didn't know what was involved. I thought some sensual before and after pictures which is what Carmen originally intended but after you start you find out there is so much more to tell and more that she wants to tell. This is a story that is involved on many levels because Carmen is living on many levels. There's the get through the day Carmen, the Carmen with friends & family, the Carmen alone at night and the Carmen in the arms of her lover. All of this has a deep effect on her... the many faces of Carmen. Carmen is allowing me to tell my story - these are my feelings and observations. I am doing this as a means of helping her to tell her own story. So she can see where the images are going and can make adjustments along the way. Something like the dailies in the movie business.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mS6HQnlozaYOsdVoeGNebXpO13Ua_AVfGe4nToYGyyqTNM8Mf2VpbJoK9CIVp154LvVSZIWGszKSVLCa112GQvJ7f2a6BIELsAhKgQvV70S_E4znjTNzOO2_PGkmZQEYES3XJpxLKbU/s1600/_MG_6218+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mS6HQnlozaYOsdVoeGNebXpO13Ua_AVfGe4nToYGyyqTNM8Mf2VpbJoK9CIVp154LvVSZIWGszKSVLCa112GQvJ7f2a6BIELsAhKgQvV70S_E4znjTNzOO2_PGkmZQEYES3XJpxLKbU/s320/_MG_6218+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406216835123836418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEV3pKfIfGHENtzohWAuom_jOhwOLYEyQceBNjTZLtvXHQhAFzfHzr7cRMARmzEreUj1yY05dgdJLH98ZppjFaRdEcTSh8jDKo6UlTYAMuyfvf4wYw7-OVS0-OY-wPp5hL_fmuwrCNOoM/s1600/_MG_6345+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEV3pKfIfGHENtzohWAuom_jOhwOLYEyQceBNjTZLtvXHQhAFzfHzr7cRMARmzEreUj1yY05dgdJLH98ZppjFaRdEcTSh8jDKo6UlTYAMuyfvf4wYw7-OVS0-OY-wPp5hL_fmuwrCNOoM/s320/_MG_6345+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406217082814313234" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0WjocT_tnb42wURZc76iFxDqvgOJTnInQPNzDVz7YzuJW_5GREyfJKU-kuJgOnAnPpEkOL0yIAmhJgneloogm4i10GweJkPEoN0gzrBs30KMmGpqwVo4cfLLDng0cAtIazQCICt7uqk/s1600/_MG_6463+copy+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0WjocT_tnb42wURZc76iFxDqvgOJTnInQPNzDVz7YzuJW_5GREyfJKU-kuJgOnAnPpEkOL0yIAmhJgneloogm4i10GweJkPEoN0gzrBs30KMmGpqwVo4cfLLDng0cAtIazQCICt7uqk/s320/_MG_6463+copy+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406229038999020530" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Urs9uURQsivDcG0KI5Tc1Ym8CAkKLxsMva6fWWy298UImtplqy52x5Q19Q13K_TvcH3s1fXpjbDcxDZ4luKytB-3gthdaZPmlWlL9IOpHcZecMPwbsv_iV_YHr5CkkS15QYVema8rgM/s1600/_MG_6517+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Urs9uURQsivDcG0KI5Tc1Ym8CAkKLxsMva6fWWy298UImtplqy52x5Q19Q13K_TvcH3s1fXpjbDcxDZ4luKytB-3gthdaZPmlWlL9IOpHcZecMPwbsv_iV_YHr5CkkS15QYVema8rgM/s320/_MG_6517+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406217564815420162" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Tonight Jene & I will meet some of her family and dearest friends. Her sister Lilliana has already reached out to me because of my blog, and portrayal of her baby sister. I will meet her mother and will feel her pain and fears for her daughter. Carmen & I spoke of this mother/daughter connection. How I was ushered off to Florida with my parents who wintered down there because they didn't want to leave me alone after my husband left me and my infant daughter. Without words or acquisations they sensed I needed watching over. Most mothers would lay down their lives for their children, wishing that they were the ones striken but instead they must bear witness to their child's suffering and be the pillar of strength.<br /><br />Time is a factor. She is scheduled for surgery on the 1st of Dec. Monday, we hope to take images on a more intimate level with her lover. Because these are important to her - in spite of the disease she carries inside her, she is still a vital loving woman with all the connections and feelings that go along with being Carmen.<br /><br />We're just 2 more people here for you Carmen - for what ever that is worth. I think of the people surrounding Carmen like dolphins - they will hold another dolphin up to the surface if they are injured....Namaste.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-13314757835241333792009-11-17T13:58:00.000-08:002009-11-19T05:14:19.477-08:00Breast cancer victim<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFtrkJZ9uO3n2mxpDqv2GSppn8Bws_sxt-5BxW395ZzGyY_a_QR9xuyWNlQKLn2z3Ut866SYUF9SWFFzCcamLSzy-Z6RbozYWHO5cTDkIvwJ3P2MVrbYUzShij-f72I2AX2Ymn7ylKWQ/s1600/_MG_6298+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFtrkJZ9uO3n2mxpDqv2GSppn8Bws_sxt-5BxW395ZzGyY_a_QR9xuyWNlQKLn2z3Ut866SYUF9SWFFzCcamLSzy-Z6RbozYWHO5cTDkIvwJ3P2MVrbYUzShij-f72I2AX2Ymn7ylKWQ/s320/_MG_6298+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405520927095502066" border="0" /></a>I deem this woman a victim because that's how she feels - victimized, as are other people afflicted by cancer and other diseases for that matter.<br />Tonight I am preparing to photograph her as the sensual woman that she sees herself to be. The weight of this disease is bearing down upon her. She is tired and is not feeling very beautiful today. She carries on all her tasks at work but her lumps are forever on her mind seeping into the core of her being and inflicting pain.<br /><br />My heart goes out to this otherwise stranger who will bear her body, heart and soul in an attempt to tell her story through the images we capture of her. She will stand before me naked.<br /><br />Jene & I have taken on the burden of photo documenting what she is going through. I hope we can do her story justice. Portraying both her fragility and her strengths in an artful and sensitive manner. I find myself losing sleep over this, tossing my own feelings into the mix. Thinking "but for the grace of God, go I". This disease strikes so many lovely women, could happen to 1 out of 7 women even without a heredity risk factor. What causes it? What can we do, if anything, to prevent it and how do we cope if it befalls us. So much research is being done and yet there doesn't seem to be enough to prevent it. The <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/13/health/research/13prevent.html">link is from a recent article in the NY Times</a>.<br /><br />In a couple of hours, we will meet for the second time, just the 2 of us. I admire her tenacity and openness about what she is going through...<br /><br />Carmen arrived later than I had hoped. We had a glass of wine and talked about all topics concerning women - from molestation to rape to abortion and I am outraged that others want to take a woman's choice away and turn back the hands of time to when back rooms and coat hangers were the means of terminating an unwanted pregnancy, instead of a doctor's skill and sterile environment. (My personal opinion).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLAUZm655eOBghF55xQo3PHdper2fSD5MemMk5K88XpITL91wsX6wvi4T0fEX7o752-sSd1tNWbUh61BpisyUS5uq-RodgIMk_if3j8eLUMdbT0STdRIk6ulPyRM3H0he5KmslpI0JlA/s1600/_MG_6221+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLAUZm655eOBghF55xQo3PHdper2fSD5MemMk5K88XpITL91wsX6wvi4T0fEX7o752-sSd1tNWbUh61BpisyUS5uq-RodgIMk_if3j8eLUMdbT0STdRIk6ulPyRM3H0he5KmslpI0JlA/s320/_MG_6221+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405520530046103074" border="0" /></a>Back to the subject - Carmen and her cancer, her feelings of abandonment, growing up without her father's involvement. Her choice of boyfriends, her marriage and lovers afterward.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Support comes in droves from family, friends and new acquaintances. Well wishes pumped into her like fresh air but she still feels that she is suffocating from what is riddling her body.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF39vAdKyUm6cObikjOpi66JPYZgMmhNS0sq0q70j1PFYBTU3yP6UTS-ZO4t2nz9pbapamlkoAuc6Mt9h_N_xPBV5nC3-BTRNx3ipXgvFugJRPioE1XtnOGOodebHQKK7bUEMzBZzpEMs/s1600/_MG_6393+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF39vAdKyUm6cObikjOpi66JPYZgMmhNS0sq0q70j1PFYBTU3yP6UTS-ZO4t2nz9pbapamlkoAuc6Mt9h_N_xPBV5nC3-BTRNx3ipXgvFugJRPioE1XtnOGOodebHQKK7bUEMzBZzpEMs/s320/_MG_6393+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405521568018189218" border="0" /></a>Every night, breaking down, focusing on her fears. Every morning waking to face them again and finding enough strength to get her through the day. Not knowing what to say, most tell her not to worry, everything will turn out fine. It's not FINE she inwardly screams. Something inside is trying to kill her. She admits cancer treatments and their prognosis have improved vastly over the years, BUT it doesn't make it any easier to go through when it's you. For a control freak, this is maddening she doesn't have control of her own body. She wants answers and no one can give her those NOW. She knows that she has 2 lumps in one breast and one in the other.<br />She had a lump in her breast 4 years ago and it was benign. What changed? How did it go from benign to malignant? (These are my questions and probably hers also).<br /><br />I can't even pretend to know what she is going through. Friday night Jene and I will meet some of her family and friends to learn more about who Carmen is and where she musters up the strength she needs to continue her fight for survival.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-44945373774223211502009-11-13T05:28:00.000-08:002009-11-28T08:18:34.810-08:00One woman's journey...<span style="font-family:arial;">Trying to make a long story short giving enough background isn't an easy task but I will attempt it.<br />At the Hoboken Open Studio Tour this past Oct. - <a href="http://www.jeneyoutt.com/">Jene</a> & <a href="http://www.marywehrhahn.com/">I</a> were exhibiting our personal works as well as promoting our <a href="http://laboroflovepix.com/">Labor Of Love Pix</a> portrait photography. I met a woman who loved my B&W nudes. She felt they were sensual without overtones of "in your face nakedness". She told me that she would like to have me shoot her. I handed her my card.<br />I heard from her about 2 weeks ago, she told me she had breast cancer and would like to photo document her journey - before and after. I asked how she felt about Jene and I shooting her together and she was up for that. She liked Jene's dancers in motion series as well. Although our styles differ we understand how to create a story and get the concept across in the capture.<br />The 3 of us met to discuss what type of story she wants to tell - our take on it and how we could help her. The session started that night with a call from her friend who wanted to cast her torso in plaster. Never having done this before her friend solicited the help of an artist at Blick's Art Store who came and helped with the process. We spent hours together, virtual strangers coming together to help someone through the emotional ride when dealing with the onslaught of a double mastectomy. Our paths have crossed and each one of us was touched by the other.<br /><br /><br />And so the journey begins....<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodlMloQhh3Y7Cp5Xl2TakZnNo6q5XAa8FUb0a8UoAgTFDffkeTXxhGIp8Q_xkHHRImJ4BDHrJURR06gML8-4ilbXSbOIBms-juZQRTEw6D5YBmelU0RlNP3Orqcsi-qVDsk643GgJDm8/s1600-h/_MG_9918+copy.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodlMloQhh3Y7Cp5Xl2TakZnNo6q5XAa8FUb0a8UoAgTFDffkeTXxhGIp8Q_xkHHRImJ4BDHrJURR06gML8-4ilbXSbOIBms-juZQRTEw6D5YBmelU0RlNP3Orqcsi-qVDsk643GgJDm8/s200/_MG_9918+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403588604385415026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />This will be a true Labor of Love helping someone cope with her changing body, the fears of cancer, showing people that she is still the same person as she was before, letting her inner beauty shine through her pain, tears and scars. Through our photographs will hope to shine a light on the fact that <span style="font-weight: bold;">a woman is not just tits and ass. </span>She is a woman because of her mind and heart, loving as only a woman can.<br /><br />Breast cancer touches us all in one way or another.<br /></span>Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-90684015402969802972009-10-30T05:46:00.000-07:002009-10-30T06:02:09.472-07:00Free Bump & Birth portrait session - drawing 10/31/09<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimwSUfyNKomnzheDGgpX_Rf3aPR3BphbPXX1KmP4rs8gmuaSHupUW5kqEborNxScg3PfOqyb342Kx_X11DD8Ak-x8JpalNIRG4r7HFj1LRfGn2RdnisuwseHje1xS8mk8OrlMoKU-Z4VI/s1600-h/pushing+out_MG_5190.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimwSUfyNKomnzheDGgpX_Rf3aPR3BphbPXX1KmP4rs8gmuaSHupUW5kqEborNxScg3PfOqyb342Kx_X11DD8Ak-x8JpalNIRG4r7HFj1LRfGn2RdnisuwseHje1xS8mk8OrlMoKU-Z4VI/s200/pushing+out_MG_5190.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398376867670787938" border="0" /></a>The first of our 3 monthly drawings at <a href="http://www.ciaobelly.com">Ciao Belly</a> in Hoboken is tomorrow and I am like a kid waiting with anticipation for halloween. This is such a special moment in a family's life and it is a honor to be a part of it.<br /><br />I remember when the nurse brought my daughter into me. All sorts of feelings washed over me at once. I was filled with joy and scared to death. What if I wasn't a good mother? I felt closer to her when she was in my womb then I did holding her this first moment. I looked at her more objectively, crying because she looked like my father-in-law.<br />By the time we left the hospital, the bonding process had begun and I couldn't believe that I had such strange feelings.<br /><br />Today there are so many books out there What to Expect when you are.... that guide you through all the stages of both pregnancy and afterward. I had Dr. Spock and that was about it.<br />It's a time filled with all sorts of wonderment. And my advice is to relax and enjoy every moment because it goes by all too quickly.Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-64412530367039153342009-09-28T07:20:00.000-07:002009-09-29T10:46:12.094-07:00Editing wedding photographs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqlvrVWO3-3d-rGKqKWpVj2GeVnH7p0B10SKVfJMI_pGj7Hvb-Xk7DY3ofeLXovaNFqEOHVRF8jK0N4UgAG3tZyY0o-IpFS6dfy2_0EVU1gtw7k97FZbP_u6NoTIUu_C8OEqhIEkQgOg/s1600-h/_MG_3775.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqlvrVWO3-3d-rGKqKWpVj2GeVnH7p0B10SKVfJMI_pGj7Hvb-Xk7DY3ofeLXovaNFqEOHVRF8jK0N4UgAG3tZyY0o-IpFS6dfy2_0EVU1gtw7k97FZbP_u6NoTIUu_C8OEqhIEkQgOg/s320/_MG_3775.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386943865367933186" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">A MAJOR TASK OF WEDDING PHOTOGRAPHY is the editing process. I spent the better part of last week going through the process of narrowing 1600 images down to 900. Whew, it's more difficult when the images are good. Easy to toss the OOF or just very bad pics, but then it's a matter of determining what you think the bride would like better. This particular bride is young, with lovely skin, an infectious smile and the warmest eyes so there is what I consider "a lot of good photos of her" and of the couple's adorable flower girls.<br /><br />Jene spent a night narrowing it down to 350 selects. And now we will go through them with a fine tooth comb or loop to get it down to 250 selects. Need to start doing a PP slide presentation for the bride and groom<br /></span>Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-369054183595730935.post-49020556768435209812009-09-26T18:17:00.000-07:002009-09-29T10:47:19.980-07:00Bump and Birth Photo Sessions<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZqkv-7-DfTwRQL7rnb01nOVDl_6Ridrx7OMU3e3I17WSJZgWjmcojJvE52M37xH3kxFdlemjviu9ZSvbBhkT385Js94uKCkdYOKCydDB2zCqRXSKPFI95-X6QwYd5giO_mXXvyvXJaTE/s1600-h/IMG_9490.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZqkv-7-DfTwRQL7rnb01nOVDl_6Ridrx7OMU3e3I17WSJZgWjmcojJvE52M37xH3kxFdlemjviu9ZSvbBhkT385Js94uKCkdYOKCydDB2zCqRXSKPFI95-X6QwYd5giO_mXXvyvXJaTE/s320/IMG_9490.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386946642283606546" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojn02bT1X7xHlSWDOTzZolL0eCHwljZu9WMib0FQRRf7h_L0Abp7NKcIoezEJXYwJnHmSCIxqUAaCbIpYx__N8dDjr5PB4wD4RqEmlhlnJ2dPEICkI4u8JbmM828RyP21Cv8GslfDxnk/s1600-h/ciaobelly_rectangle_final.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 95px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojn02bT1X7xHlSWDOTzZolL0eCHwljZu9WMib0FQRRf7h_L0Abp7NKcIoezEJXYwJnHmSCIxqUAaCbIpYx__N8dDjr5PB4wD4RqEmlhlnJ2dPEICkI4u8JbmM828RyP21Cv8GslfDxnk/s320/ciaobelly_rectangle_final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386946500233859634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><a href="http://www.ciaobelly.com/">Ciao Belly</a>, a wonderful little Hoboken maternity, baby and gift boutique will feature Labor of Love Pix fine art portrait photography. Starting Oct 1st, come into the store and enter to win a Bump and Birth photo session with us. There is no purchase necessary to enter or win in this monthly random drawing.<br />So if you are in the area, stop into Ciao Belly. Great place for unique baby gifts and educational information. They have events listed on their site like sign language for babies. The owner, Laura is a sweetheart and Jene & I appreciate having a presence in the boutique - 730 Washington Street, Hoboken.<br /><br /></span>Labor of Love Pxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01540487628331707952noreply@blogger.com0