Life Less Ordinary

Ever dream of selling everything & moving to Mexico? We did it … loved and lived it for six years. We’ve returned to the States and the culture shock is real folks. Below are some of our stories about what it was like to live and work in Mexico and what it’s like to be ex-expats building a small farm in the Pacific Northwest.

And we're back ...

We live in America.

We lived in San Pancho, Mexico for six years, two months and seven days. It was amazing. We faced challenges but never regretted our decision to live there. Our life was sweet and simple and full of laughter and joy and friends and sun and tacos. So many tacos.

IMG_4144.JPG

Then it wasn’t.

COVID-19 happened. We didn’t get infected but it infected everything. Weddings cancelled. School closed. Friends left. The beach was off-limits. Our hand was forced.

People used to ask me how long we planned to live in Mexico and I responded with “We don’t have an exit strategy,” - and we didn’t. When Phil said he was done and suggested we move back to the US, I didn’t argue. Ever the optimist, I couldn’t justify staying when our way of life there was just … over.

IMG_4404.JPG

We moved into an Airstream on an island in the Pacific Northwest and had an idyllic summer eating blackberries and roasting marshmallows. My parents invited us to move onto their property and the idea of a multi-generational family compound felt inline with our propensity to live a life less ordinary.

As the pandemic wore on and summer drew to a close, we knew going back wasn’t happening. I started to cry every night. I was a freaking mess. I couldn’t wrap my head around that chapter in our lives closing - it was just so good. Our little house had just gotten perfect (new couch! new paint! a credenza!) The ocean …. c’mon, how could I live without the ocean? I wasn’t ready to let it go.

I had to respect a decision made. I flew back to Mexico and packed up the house for good. I was still a mess but a highly functioning and organized mess capable of packing and donating and tying up loose ends. I stood in the threshold of our little house with a great friend and blubbered about how unfair it was and how I wasn’t ready and the house was perfect and she smiled sweetly and said, “You’ve finished it, Erin. Now you have to start again.”

With that - I was okay. Perspective smacked me in the face. Shut up you big baby. So many people have it far worse - lost so much more. Put your big girl pants on and get over yourself.

IMG_5209.JPG

We wear a lot more clothes in America. Sydney is riding the bus to public school. Trail running through the forest invigorates Phil. The garden is primed for perfection. Multi-generational living is a lot harder than we’d anticipated but we are managing better every week. We wear masks inside and can’t wait for my parents to get the second dose of the vaccine.

I’m figuring out a way to pivot my business into something that is less of a one-hit wonder phenomena and more of something that people can use as their lives evolve. I like the idea of folks hiring me to document their family as it grows. I can be there for their birthday parties and tree decorations, bedtimes and baseball games. I’m not limited to just the big moments - now I’m able to capture all their moments in between.

I miss Mexico. It was a great chapter. This one will be too.

Socially Savvy

My friend, my good friend, told me my social media presence is the biggest lie he’s ever seen.

“Fuck you.” I responded, naturally.

The boring and non-arguable fact about my Facebook and Instagram feeds is that I use them for business. Getting people to trust me, allow me and want me to document intimate moments of their lives is what I do. They have to like me. Not just my work, but ME. I make an effort to come across as myself online and I want to be liked. I don’t think I’m hard to like but …

I’m human. I have faults. Brazen is not an inaccurate adjective to describe me. Sometimes, I’m not nice. I can be a bit loud. I have made a few poor choices. I am quick to apologize but I can also get indignant. There are parts of me that someone, somewhere inherently dislikes. And that’s okay with me. I have a sneaking suspicion that you can admit one or some of the same things about yourself.

Therein lies my friend’s point. He knows me well enough to know I am more than who I appear to be online. I will vaguely catalog my faults on a blog post (you just read it!) but those traits aren’t obvious in my social media posts. Instead, I try to show the good stuff. The happy times. The good news. The likeable qualities. I wish other people did the same MORE. I’d be great if folks would keep their bullshit to themselves. Let the “fuck you” friends and even the “bless your heart” friends see the other parts. Those people want to discuss politics or vaccination stances or see pictures of the latest meal. They know enough to forgive, forget or ignore the unlikable stuff.

As I write, I worry a little that admitting I’m an imperfect person will make me less likable. So, just remember that I’m good and happy and try to be funny and am, more often than not, nice. I know said I don’t care if people like me, but I want to be liked.

My wonderful, charming, smart and handsome husband reminded me that certain platforms can be blamed for the deconstruction of democracy. He is not afraid of calling Facebook and Twitter evil. My immediate rebuttal was to remind him that social media brought us together. I can see the bad - the way that false information or rumors or bullying spreads and polarizes. That stuff is so hard to ignore. But I also see the good. And really, if we all tried to just show the good parts of ourselves, wouldn’t social media just be better?

Resonate Joy

I just got a response from Lexi after sending her wedding photos. She’s my last bride for awhile … six weddings have postponed due to Coronavirus. Fingers crossed the next one on the calendar proceeds as planned - in October. That’s seven months between weddings … that’s so much time to tinker and homeschool and revise and ugh ... so much time. I digress.

Lexi was happy with her pictures and told me something I said at rehearsal resonated with her, lifting her spirits in a week that was shrouded in discomfort and tension. As a mom and wife during quarantine times, my family uses affectionate adjectives like nagging or annoying or relentless to describe my words … resonation has a much more positive connotation, thank you Lexi.

Wedding weeks aren’t supposed to include tension and discomfort but Lexi’s was in the middle of March, as the Covid-19 pandemic exploded onto the world. Her wedding very nearly was cancelled. As everyone shuttered in collective panic about Coronavirus, she and Karl watched their guest count dwindle from 150 to 90, 90 to 70 and finally settle into about 50 people. The US State Department urged Americans abroad to return home immediately less than 30 minutes before the couple was scheduled to rehearse their nuptials. It freaked them out.

I go to rehearsals to meet couples face to face (if I haven’t already) and also to meet the bridal party and families. It’s nice to see the ceremony set up and do a little venue scouting too, but I’m there for the people. I’m trying to make myself feel less like a stranger. I give those attending a brief introduction to me and the way I work, reinforcing the couple hired me because I’m a documentary photographer. I go on to explain they don’t want posed group shots and are hoping for candid moments that reflect the spirit of the day. I tell the chosen few it’s their job to spread the message of “ignore the photographer” to the rest of the guests.

Lexi and Karl’s rehearsal wasn’t typical because it fell during atypical times. I modified my spiel. Despite a diminished guest count and the US government’s feeble attempts to progressive protection of its people, the wedding was going to happen. All the guests that were going to be there were already in Sayulita, the vendors were still working … the pieces were all in place. Unfortunately, the fear fostered by the pandemic was overshadowing their happy occasion. And that shit just wasn’t fair.

I reminded them that everyone who was here was here to celebrate them and their love. I lauded Lexi and Karl for going ahead with the wedding as planned. Lexi wrote in her email today that she’ll never forget what I said.

“I am so happy you guys are doing this,” I said. “People need this. They need love.”

We still do.

I am so damn lucky that my job is to take pictures on one of the happiest days of people’s lives. They trust me to capture their love and I do it! I am proud to share that joy … now more than ever because we all need love and patience and kindness and reasons to celebrate. We need good news and joy. I’m going to up my sharing ante - I’ll post more to POSITIVE to Instagram and Facebook. More blogs with good news and cheery anecdotes will follow this one. I might not be able to do my photography job for the next seven months, but I can share the joy that my couples express or the happiness I find in this Mexican life we’ve chosen. Will you share yours too? C’mon, let’s spread joy together.

sayulita_weddingphotographer_lk_12.jpg

Five years in

June 2 was the fifth anniversary of us living in Mexico and it passed without consequence.

Five years.

Damn. Ten years ago I said I’d never fucking live here. Now I can’t wrap my head around ever leaving. I know one day we will but … the decision to move here and the growth it’s brought is so much more interesting.

Then and now. I’m still in orange.

Then and now. I’m still in orange.

Sydney just graduated from Casa de Niños, the Mexican equivalent to kindergarten. After rolling my eyes at this moment dutifully posted to social media by everyone else who experienced it, I photographed my little summer sun/ladybug and shared the pictures with glee. When we moved here, she couldn’t walk or talk, was a babe in arms that I stared at through the mosquito netting as I held my breath, willing everything to be okay. I still do that. Ask Phil, I just panicked over her latest cough.

Summer is here and it did not come with that nostalgic joy it once did. The humidity has arrived and the rain has not. The ants are marching and we’ve got another god damn mouse in the house. Multiple fans run constantly in multiple rooms. However.

We decided to invest and install an AC. The mousetraps are set. The ants file right into the poison (left in small dabs out of reach of children - don’t judge - I hate ants). The thunderclouds build nightly and the storms are on their way. I supposed I can sit back and unwind. Summer isn’t so bad once the rain begins.

The town is emptying out. Some are leaving for the season, some indefinitely. Our community of friends here is unlike any I’ve ever had because it’s not just my community. It’s my family’s. This is where it gets tricky. My given family lived here before I did. Everyone knew me as Jeremy’s sister or Karen & Mark’s daughter. They’ve all left and with the passage of time, their imprint on our place in the community has diminished.

The Fredrichs are gone and the Parker’s remain. We’re the goofy loud ones, reliable and helpful, gregarious and a little bit insular (a lot of the time). My parents are happy with their life less ordinary on Bainbridge Island. Jeremy & Nicole just had a baby and their world has changed in a way they’ve wanted since before anyone here ever knew them. Our friends just moved into my given family’s house in town. Stepping into that familiar space and feeling it rejuvenize was so satisfying.

Five years ago, I didn’t know what we were going to do. I had a vague idea of this place and a general idea of the good life. Now, I have a thriving little business and my husband has written two novels, two screenplays and more than 100 blog posts. Our daughter is flourishing. We are so damn happy.

I catch myself being one of those assholes that only puts the good part of life out there for people to see … shit happens. I got a kidney infection and was hospitalized last year. I’ve had two different mosquito borne illnesses. My spanish is still utter garbage. Hurricanes threaten to flood us out annually. The avocados aren’t always ripe.

Right now, this Mexican Life is my best life. I can’t imagine living anywhere else because I don’t want to. There is no place I’d rather be.

To Be Camera Free or Not to Be

camerafree.jpg

Is there a better argument for having a camera-free ceremony than THIS picture?

No. Honestly. No. This should be enough.

This is a real picture from a wedding at Villa Amor in Sayulita. I took it. In an email a day or two after her wedding, the bride asked if there was anything I could do about her brother-in-law being behind the altar during the ceremony.

No. Honestly. No. There isn’t.

Don’t worry. He wasn’t there the whole time. I did give the bride plenty of lovely photos from their ceremony that don’t have her relative and his smartphone in them. She and I shared a laugh over the ridiculousness of his behavior. Doesn’t everyone have someone in their family that is expected to do something a little awkward at family events? I’m that person in my family. Go ahead. Ask my sisters.

People like me and this guy can be stopped. All you have to do is ask. Have a cute sign in a very visible location at your wedding for everyone to see. We really want to see your faces, not your devices or We have one plea, keep our ceremony camera free … Oh snap. Unplugged. Whatever, Pinterest has a thousand good suggestions. Officiants are also excellent for asking your guests to put their devices away before you walk down the aisle. I love it when an officiant points me out before the show gets on the road. I wave.

It’s my responsibility to make the best possible picture of wedding ceremonies. It’s a challenge and a gift. I pay attention to the emotion, the words, the moment, the guests, the lights, the kiss, the words … all of it. In that variety of pictures no one want to see guests holding their phones up between themselves and the action at the altar. What’s going to happen with those photos? Will the photos taken by hands sticking into the aisle during the processional really be better than the ones that I get? I like to think not. These not-so-awesome hail mary photo attempts are getting in the way of the ones couples entrust me to get. Trust me guests, I got it.

Really though, the best argument for asking guests to keep their cameras and phones away during the ceremony is their presence. And being present. Guests are guests because the bride and groom want to share the moments of their wedding with them. They want them to be there as they join their lives in a sacred ceremony. It’s a gift to witness with this moment in time in person … not through the screen.

Words, Words, Words

If you don't know what search engine optimization is, I'm envious. Using special magical web developer tricks, search engine optimization could help my website pop up on the first page in Google when someone searches for Sayulita wedding photographer. That's what I am - among other things. 

That's me, in the reflection - trying to be clever. 

That's me, in the reflection - trying to be clever. 

I work really hard to tell the story of a couple's wedding day. Every wedding has similar elements, the white dress, the walk down the aisle, the kiss, the dance ... but I enjoy in finding the differences and showing couples how their day is totally unique.  It's hard but the challenge keeps me motivated. 

This search engine optimization business makes it virtually impossible for my photos to do the talking for me. I have to use words. I like to write, I like words. But what in the hell are the right words? 

Irreverent. Talented. Funny. Quirky. Enthusiastic. Vertically challenged. Freckled. Relaxed. Confident. Emotional. Professional. Photojournalist. Adventurous. Loving. Thorough. Wordy? Maybe.

Wait ... are my words supposed to describe me or my work? Documentary. Reportage. Authentic. Candid. Happy. Beautiful. Different. 

I miss the simplicity of word of mouth. Whatever happened to a photo being worth a thousand words? Now I have to actually hide those thousand words in code. What? How? Why?

I'll figure this SEO nonsense out but right this second, my word is frustrated.

Roots

Despite dreams and perfect planning, shit can hit the fan at weddings. I've seen it. It's not specific to destination weddings or bridezilla expectations ... it's just shit and it's as unpredictable as it is shitty. 

But nothing ruins weddings because at their root is love. Stop gagging, it's true. Panic, frustration, meltdowns are met with grace and humility, patience and creativity. Being calm and having a sense of humor helps every time. 

Look at these two: 

This is Jeff and Alison. They got married in March. I took some of my all time favorite photos at their wedding where more shit happened than at any other I've seen. Literally. Over five days, more than 60 of their 75 guests got sick. En route to see Jeff for their first look, Alison saw the reception area for the first time and everything was wrong: the colors, table placement, the location of the ceremony. It was someone else's wedding vision. And she's not picky. Then Jeff's dad passed out and someone said he may have had a stroke (he hadn't). Son sleeping off sickness in the next room, arm aching from the IV he'd needed early that day, Jeff took a breath before going see his new wife. 

They laughed all night. Guests peeled early. No sparklers. Minimal dancing. But they were married. They were in one of their favorite places. They stayed focused on the root of it all: Love. 

It's true. It's all you need. 

But it helps if both people to show up. 

The girl with the greatest smile is Lindsay. She tried her best, but was too sick to go to her wedding. She got ready, we went into town with her fiancé, Sean, and took pictures, and then I told her I'd see her in 10 minutes. Thirty minutes later Sean got the call she would be late It was a brutal choice, but she couldn't muster her best self. 

The ceremony was postponed. Cocktail hour started. She didn't improve. The ceremony was pushed back again. Dinner was served. The moon was full. Hundreds of candles. The bride went to urgent care. Everyone held onto hope. She'd mentioned dreaming of a moonlit ceremony. 

The ceremony was canceled. 

Sean drove her up in a golf cart so she could see her wedding come to life. Everyone stood and cheered when they walked in. She cried and laughed. I got the photo of them standing where they were supposed to marry, illuminated by candles held up by their brothers. The reception was lit up behind them. Full moon overhead. 

After hugs and more tears, they left and their friends partied on. A college buddy split his pants dancing. Sombreros came out. A barefooted drunk girl broke a glass. Everyone had a great time. 

They got married the next morning. She was back to her normal self. Her hair wasn't in an updo. Her make-up was subdued. His boutonniere didn't survive the night. It was intimate. It was on the beach. They laughed. Guests cried. It was sweet.

I took photos of them on the beach after the ceremony, full of energy and joy. The wedding didn't go as planned, but it did go. Of course it did, love was at its root. 

The Good Part

We live by the ocean. Our daughter is healthy, vibrant and bilingual. I surf regularly. The beer is cheap and the tacos are delicious. 

The summer is hotter and more humid than you can wrap your head around. The mosquitos carry horrible sickness and we've experienced it. The house doesn't have AC and the screens are efficient, penetrable and necessary. 

Like anywhere, this Mexican Life has it's ups and downs, but right now, we're in an up. 

friends2018_7.jpg

Our friends were just here. The people we long for when it feels like we're the only people crazy enough to live here year round. The ones that make us laugh the hardest, keep us humble and lift us up. Our kids get along great. This is the time of year when life feels like a vacation. 

When I was a little kid, we used to go on vacation with my parent's best friends. We had a picture from one of those trips hanging prominently in our house for years. It was like the one above and when I look at myself and my little family with this awesome group of people, I can't believe that I'm one of the grownups now. My little family is part of this really fun and dynamic group of people. 

Don't be mad, I'm gonna write about it getting better. 

Work is great right now too. The timing between weddings is well spaced. I'm not overextending myself or underwhelmed. The rhythm of the work is good. The personalities are varied and enertaining. My technique is clicking.

Sure, it sucks down here sometimes too. The transmission in our car is shot and can't get fixed for two weeks because everything shuts down to celebrate Semana Santa.  Dogs shit right in front of the house daily. I still speak terrible Spanish and do next to nothing about it. Am I embarrassed about my Spanish? Yes. Am I ashamed? Yes. Will I stop writing and improve it? Probably not. I'm gonna go outside and enjoy one of those cold cheap beers in our beer garden while kids zoom by on bikes. We might go watch sunset at the beach. Chances are good we'll have tacos for dinner.

We've got to have lows to enjoy the highs. And right now, holy moly, this is a high. 

friends2018_37.jpg

Biographical Bullshit

I've been trying to write a little bio blurb for This Is Reportage, a new (and wonderful) wedding photographer collective I joined, and it's not going well. 

I don't know what to say and I say too much. It's endearing, isn't it? 

So I put off writing it and look at my work. Then I look at Instagram and spiral down into photographers' feeds and lose my breath. There is such incredible work out there. And so much of it. Self doubt creeps in. Of course it does, isn't that the problem with social media? 

I see these pictures of mountaintops and castles and think I'll never shoot in a place like them but I'd love to. There are moments and faces and light that make me think I could never shoot it better but I'll try to. There are scowls and moodiness and trends that make me wince and wonder what the hell happened to romance but I know tastes vary and I will not appeal to everyone and that's okay. I reach a point where I'll drift back into my own work and I like what I see. 

I see happiness. 

Maybe that's all my biography needs to be. 

Lauren + Luke

Lauren + Luke

Clare + Chris

Clare + Chris

Jamie + Danny

Jamie + Danny

 

 

Cindy + Brandon | Sayulita, Mexico

During the introductory phone call with these two, they had me laughing and chatting like we'd known each other forever. It was apparent from that call that photographing their intimate wedding at Villa Amor in Sayulita would be like photographing family. These are a few of my favorite photos from that day. 

This is Cindy dancing with her dad as Brandon watches. It looks like he and I were the only ones paying attention. I use my camera as a shield during father daughter dances - to catch the moment and hide any rogue tears. My wedding regret is not dancing with my dad. We danced down the aisle but that's not the same. I didn't give him the chance to dance with me while we both cried in front of all the guests and I'm really sad about it. Maybe I'm reading too much into the significance of the dance ... but looking at Brandon in this picture, I think he gets it.  There aren't many time in our lives that we get to honor our parents publicly and this dance is one of those opportunities. If the focus in the photo was on Cindy and her dad, she wouldn't see how her husband honored her relationship with her father.  Brandon's stillness feels respectful. 

The photos feels like it's out of a dream. Villa Amor is situated on a hill on the south side of Sayulita. The fireworks started as I loaded up my cameras in the car to go home. We'd said our good-byes. When I saw them, I grabbed my camera and ran. One never knows how long fireworks are going to last but they were too incredible to miss. The following was Cindy's take on the show ... 

This picture was taken at the end of the night as a result of a completely random and unexpected fireworks show. (Keep in mind, we tried to arrange a fireworks show for after the wedding, but the town had voted to not allow them anymore) We had just said goodbye to Erin for the night and were enjoying the last few minutes of the open bar in the courtyard when, out of nowhere, we hear explosions and the sky lights up. We, and all of our guests, realized someone was setting off fireworks so we all ran through our villa and out to the terrace.

My husband and I are snuggled up to one another talking about how Erin is probably screaming to herself that she left too early. I hear, “Hey guys, turn around.” There she is, capturing yet another wonderful moment of the night. She turned around and came running back to capture this and other shots. Thank you, Erin, for your dedication to capturing every last moment!
— the bride, Cindy

This photo was taken the day after their wedding. We didn't do a photo shoot in town the day of because they didn't want to leave their party (I get it). They put their outfits back on, wiped some chocolate cake off of Brandon's vest, loaded the golf cart with beer and off we went. Hotel de Hafa is an oft photographed location in Sayulita, clearly it's bright and lovely. The symmetry of this picture, their body language, the color - it works. It's just a couple of sexy people being sexy in a sexy place.