When Your Invitation Gets Lost in the Mail
September 17, 2014 § Leave a comment
Yes. ❤
In high school, there was an abandoned school bus in the woods where kids would go to party.
Apparently.
I tell my friends in England about it because they can’t believe how American it is. A school bus! In the woods! Did people drink from red plastic cups? Did the cheerleaders wear their uniforms and make out with the football players like in the movies?
This is the part where I’m forced to admit that I don’t know.
My Monday mornings in high school looked a lot like this: I sat down at my desk in Mrs. Cannady’s homeroom, pulled out the homework I was supposed to have done over the weekend, and scribbled down answers as I eavesdropped on the kids behind me talking about The Bus.
I was never invited. Is it the kind of thing you get a formal invitation to? Either way, I never knew about it…
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25 things every woman needs to know.
October 9, 2013 § Leave a comment
Amen and amen.
1) Life is a steep, uphill battle but it’s fierce & it’s beautiful & you’ll be sad to see it go if you live it right.
2) New people won’t stop coming into your life and opportunities won’t stop knocking on the door but you need to have the space for them. In all you currently have– be them relationships or obligations– step back and ask yourself “why.” If you can find the answer, hold tighter. If the answer escapes you, it’s time to let something go.
3) You should resolve to be awesome for the rest of your life. Right now. Do it.
4) Leggings, no matter how much we wish, will never one day magically transform into pants. Wearing them with tops that don’t cover your bum is not cute. Please, please, please stock up on pants.
5) Goals are not a January 1st kind of thing. Set…
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A rare moment of banner-carrying.
September 6, 2013 § Leave a comment
Did you know I used to carry the title missionary?
For some of you, this will be a bit of a surprise as it is not some sort of banner I go flailing about and beating others over the head with. (I am pretty sure that sentence is somehow grammatically incorrect, but this is my blog so whatevz.)
Yep, right after high school, I knew I did not want to go to college immediately. Instead, I traveled to west Africa with a team 9 days after our vice principal pronounced my name correctly for the first. time. ever. as I walked across a stage. Of course, I went to Indiana for a few days with a great friend between graduation and Africa. This is where the wandering took off and just hasn’t stopped.
After Africa, I decided to do a Discipleship Training School through Youth With A Mission (YWAM) and flew up to Canada for the 7-month program. Fun story sidebar: I flew to Toronto from Atlanta, though I was living with my folks in Charleston, SC. Charleston to Atlanta is about 5 hours and I had a noon flight, so Momma, Renee’ and myself went a day early. Got up, took me for some breakfast and at about 945am, right before the two hour check in they ask for when you fly international, Momma goes “Please double check you have everything?”
I eye roll. (Remember: I have just turned 19.)
And just like that, I cannot find my ticket holder. The black thing that has my passport, drivers license, visa paperwork, frequent flyer card, and immunization record.
We call Dad. It is on the black office chair in Charleston.
My miracle-working Dad had me on a 4pm flight, my groggy brother loaded in our van, & was flying down the highway to Atlanta in under 15 minutes. Let’s do the math on that. It is 10am. Flight is at 4pm. Atlanta is a SOLID 5 hours.
Right.
We hang up and Momma goes “Welp, y’all wanna go shopping?” Um, YES PLEASE!
Dad & David show up at like 318pm and we were waiting. We practically throw my bag at the ticket agent (who reminds me that the bag might not make it – whatever why is this woman still talking???) and we run to the metal detectors. Now, kids, before that big nasty 9-11 debacle, you could go with your passengers all the way to the gate. Yep. I know, CRAZY PANTS.
So, we each pick a metal detector and fly through. Run to the escalator, run down the escalator, hop on the tram. Four terminals later, we hop out, run up the escalator, and sprint down 28 gates of Terminal D.
It is 353pm.
They have been calling me over the speakers as I was the only passenger not on the plane.
I turn to my family and go “Well….bye!” It wasn’t until I was somewhere over upstate New York that my brain kicked in with a “Holy crapsickle, WHAT are you thinking?!”
Missions is a hard gig. So often, those who bear the title live in areas where sharing directly is not possible or welcome. Showing Love becomes something you do with your everything and people matter so much that you are ok with this occupation that will leave you on your knees in the kitchen sobbing from the blackness you witness. Missionaries raise their own funds and find ways to be light in that blackness in a variety of ways. Often, they are from western cultures and go into societies that are less technologically advanced. I went to Africa and the former Yugoslavia. The McClure’s & Jason Vana go to the Czech Republic. Brodie lives in Romania. Rachel went to Thailand.
It is in Thailand that a rather unusual thing came about. A missionary emerged from Africa. Emmanuel King Nyamageni is from Tanzania and is a talented artist. Wanting to show Love with his gifts, he signed up for schools in the same organization I used to be a part of, YWAM. He works with CREATE at their Chiang Mai location and has no desire to be anywhere else (CREATE is awesome & you can learn more about them by clicking here). Thailand is where he feels pulled to live and in the midst of all of this, he meets Rachel.
They are engaged to be married in December.
Ema & Rachel releasing lanterns December, 2012.
Life is crazy, right?
Except after raising the funds for the school, he has very limited support to stay on in Thailand. It is hard. But, he feels like this is home. He has met his future wife. He will stay as long as he can.
The budget needs are small, compared to North American standards. Overall, he must raise only $600 a month. That is less than some of us pay in rent! Except that is his entire budget.
Incredible.
But again, missionaries usually go to Africa. Rarely do they come out of Africa. Ema wants to change that and your $10-$50 per month can do so much. Unbelievably much.
It is rare that I speak so boldly about Love, the work of the local church, or money. May that illustrate how much I believe in the Chiang Mai base & in Ema.
If you would like to speak to him directly or find out more about him, you can do so via the contact form below.
May you know today how loved you are.
Ema in Thailand.
Her name is Alison.
June 24, 2013 § Leave a comment
I have a problem.
It’s a good problem, really. The problem is that I need a clone. There are virtually zero days off and dinner with another just for funsies happened yesterday (Beasley’s! Yum!) for the first time in gosh, WEEKS. Maybe months.
My emails are running at a solid four days behind. My processing time is hitting major lag time. I hate it. In my efforts to treat people the best I possibly can, it’s hard for them. It’s hard for me. And then, just like that (like everything amazing that ever happens in my life), here she comes. The closest thing I’ve found to a clone of myself to date, except, wait for it….she’s better.
This radiant, joyful, extrovert can discuss social media marketing strategies and analysis of materials in circles around me while I munch on a Fudgesicle. Your boss doesn’t have a stash of Fudgesicles? Well, I’m sorry for you.
It all began with an idea. She wanted new portraits and wanted me to do them. I said for sure! Which then developed into a really fantastical weekend in Charlotte with some of the most beautiful women gracing the whole gosh darn earth. And this girl rocked it like a hurricane. Nearly all I had to do was create and enjoy my time in the Queen City. Paperwork, spreadsheets, all that non-creative stuff that bogs me down? She handled it all and did so graciously & tied up in a pretty box with string. There was also karaoke during one of these sessions for mere entertainment value.
And so, it is with incredibly great pleasure that I’d like to introduce you to Alison.
Say hi, Alison!
From our time in Charlotte.
This.
Her favorite.
My favorite.
All the time.
Going forward, chances are high that you’ll schedule your session or obtain your password or submit your payment through her. While she’s on board part-time (for now…I have ideas), don’t hesitate to contact either of us with anything you need. At the end of the day, our client’s experience is our top concern. I want it to be the best it can possibly be and I am so grateful for an issue that’s required the addition of another. You all share your lives and families and really special moments with me and it is not something I take lightly. My job is one of my largest sources of joy. Only appropriate, I think, to bring other joyful souls onto this ship.
If you see Alison, or contact her through email, don’t be afraid to joke around with her or be silly. She, like me, loves to laugh and engage with others. However, don’t be afraid to voice a concern, either. She, like me, places a high value on people and making them feel loved and cared for.
Such an incredible journey.
Glad she’s on it.
Alison can be reached via email here: talktous@amarishames.com
Fun facts about her: She spent Christmas night 2012 sledding down a mountain in Austria, loves roller coasters, sings constantly (& pretty much knows the lyrics to every song ever – specializing in musicals and Disney numbers), and pineapple is her favorite food…followed closely by bacon. (<—Ed. note: Who doesn’t love bacon???)
A novel. Sorry I’m not sorry.
April 25, 2013 § 2 Comments
Let me just say, if you are not interested in wedding photography, this post might not be for you.
You probably don’t know, but I am part of a supportive (& amazing!) online community for professional photographers and more than a few of them started hitting me up when I mentioned to one member that I could send her my tips for the job. The response was pretty incredible and another suggested making a blog post. “Brilliant”, I thought. “Save the emails!”
So, here we are. You’ll get an inside look to how I run a wedding. And, maybe, a little bit into how my life values shape how I do things and why I do them that way. Even if you’re not interested in being behind the lens ever, I’m confident you’ll find something in here that resonates with you.
Here we go. 🙂
Right out the gate, there’s a lot of info here. And please don’t think that I am some sort of end all, be all authority. This is how I do things, most of the time. Each wedding is unique and each photographer is unique. Figure out what works for *you*, but don’t be afraid to step out of the comfort box! It might be best to take notes. Ha, no, seriously. I’m not kidding. Feel free to ask questions in the comments and I will respond asap. You have the right to stop and come back to this. I want it to be helpful, not overwhelming.
Also, as I don’t know what your level of experience is with photography, I am assuming you know less than you probably actually know. Don’t hate me.
Weddings are FUN. It’s a celebration! Remember that it’s all about Love at the end of the day. Above all other things, remember to breathe. When things get chaotic, take a step back, take the camera away from your face, and focus entirely on breathing. Make it as discreet as you can. It helps everything.
That word up there will be the name of the game on ceremony day. Discreet. Make it your goal. The only time I’d encourage you to not make this your goal is during family photos. You run that shit. Otherwise, it will take all day and it will be the most unpleasant thing ever for everyone involved. Do everything you can to make sure the elders feel considered and respected. Make sure you do all children under 7 first and quickly. Keep smiling.
SMIIIIIIIILE! It will be your biggest asset. Lots and lots of folks take their cue from the photographer because you’ve done this, you know this, you got this. If you appear stressed and anxious, they will become stressed and anxious. Realize that you set the tone in the room, not someone else. Relax, smile, and breathe. It will help the dynamic significantly.
Hang out with the bridal party! You’ll love it. Promise.
My primary rule is that if it was purchased, it gets captured. Down at the bottom, I’ve listed an example of my flow for ceremony day that I’ve found works the best. Walk through the flow in your head, with the details you know, and see if it sounds like something that might work. At that point, you have two options. Either use what you already know about the day to figure out a flow OR send your flow to the bride to see if it would work with the schedule.
What I mean by “if it was purchased”, dress, shoes, rings, flowers, tuxes, cake, whatever they got you name it. Getaway car, etc. In the end, details shouldn’t consume all of your shots, but should be a healthy mix of everything. Again, I walk through the flow at the bottom. I think that might help give you a better idea of this.
Details are possible. Find them.
Remember that your camera gives you rights others don’t possess. It gives you the right to ask people questions, even if you don’t know them. It gives you the right to walk halfway down the middle aisle (it does NOT give you the right to walk across the front). It gives you the right to see the bride before the wedding. It gives you the right to ask for some space. Folks, when asked kindly, will be happy to give you some room. This goes back to being discrete. If there’s tears involved, tread carefully. Ask quietly. Be kind. Let grace exude from your fingertips.
On the day of a ceremony, have someone be your right hand man. Let them be the go between, get you water, trade out gear, answer questions by the families. It’s amazing to have a teammate there, if only to give you someone to run ideas by and be silly with. It helps corralling the families much easier, too, when someone else can do all the yelling. This is an extra expense, yes, but it helps your morale and the day so much, it’s worth it. Big props if you can find someone who will do this regularly and you can learn how you function as a team.
Eric is my right hand man. It helps that he also loves to dance at receptions.
If you can afford it, bring a team. Over 130 guests and there are three of us-first shooter, 2nd shooter, assistant (who gets a camera sometimes, too). Over 250 and now there are four. They want a photo booth set up? Five. Having a team to work with adds to-do items, sure. But, being able to sit in the middle of the ceremony because you’ve got coverage from every angle? That, ladies and gentleman, is AWESOME.
My team hops in the photo booth. Spring 2013.
*Note: You’ll notice we’re wearing neutrals, but not all black. This is not a funeral, it’s a celebration! Ok, carry on.
In one of your chats ahead of time, walk through the schedule of the day with the couple. My best wedding days are ones where I became part planner and the schedule revolves around the photographs. Dedicate just fifteen minutes of just you and the newlyweds. They’ll love love love the quiet and it will give you some alone time to breathe and them to breathe and some gorgeous to be captured. Don’t skip it. And don’t let them skip it. Even if it’s just on the other side of the church, it’ll be great. 🙂
From our fifteen minutes. Spring 2013.
Yes, they have a reception to get to and guests to respect. However, this day happens once. There are ways of creating win-win situations for everyone involved and respecting both the guests who have traveled far as well as the individuals who just exchanged vows.
It will help all chaos if all immediately involved in the day can receive even a rough schedule a day or two out from the ceremony. It eliminates a lot of back and forth because folks know where they are supposed to be! My personal solution to this is to finalize details with the bride two weeks out from the ceremony date and ask for the last five minutes of rehearsal time. Create a schedule and print 20-40 copies. Bring it with you to rehearsal and take notes while everyone walks through their motions. When they’re done, bring them up front, sit everyone down, and pass out that schedule. Introduce your (smiling!) self, your team members, and walk through that schedule. If there’s been a major last minute change, this is your chance to know it. The parents feel involved. The bridal party can’t say they didn’t know. It gets you some face time. Everyone wins.
That being said, everyone involved in every single wedding (literally, ALL) I have ever participated in has their claws-in-the-ceiling pre-ceremony. Especially the bride and the mother of the bride. STRESSED. Tensions sometimes get high, even if it’s just one person. One of your many hats is to be reassuring.
“After you walk down that aisle, the joy overtakes the stress. Let’s get you married!”
Make the verbage your own, but if things get tense, it’ll help. Women need. to. hear. things. If you take nothing else away from this, it’s that. Write that down.
(I’m waiting while you go write that down.)
I stay with the bride all the way until she walks down the aisle. We do silly things to help the nerves.
Do not make the mistake of saying either of the following things:
“This is just a small wedding.”
“I’m not that experienced. I won’t ask questions or get in anyone’s way.”A wedding day is just that. The uniting of two souls into one flesh and it is both sacred and beautiful. They’ve trusted you with capturing it and no matter if there are five people there, it’s incredibly important to them. Give it the dedication and leg work it deserves.
Lastly, as a result of my personal beliefs, I never take a photo during prayer. This is up to you and, if you want to, you should talk about it with the bride first.
You know this, but creativity takes time. And, with any kind of event, it takes planning.
Let me know if I can help with anything else at all.
xo
My actual flow from an August wedding (I’ve removed all notes about my other shooters-we had a team of six on this one and it’s just extra fluff for you):
Confirm charge on all batteries; Make sure all needed batteries have a home for the next day in bags; Confirm all memory cards are formatted and working properly; Ensure all necessary cables, lights, lens hoods, accessories, etc. are packed and ready to go; Clean all glass; Bags packed. (Don’t put them in the car!)
Raise your hand if you hate it.
March 30, 2013 § Leave a comment
Writing late night is usually a bad idea.
Virtually anything requiring the processing of emotions after oh, say, 9pm is probably not the best idea. But, tonight, I pull an Olivia and say eff the police because if I don’t get it out of me, I just might lose my mind.
And, since it’s 1214am EST, who’s awake and sober? Uhhhh, no one. Except maybe my Momma. Ha, let’s get real.
You have to get it out of you when the devil comes in and dances on your head about how terribly alone you are, you the 30+ something who still lives in a house full of girls that are not your own. He beats you with a sledgehammer branded with the word “Loneliness” and you take a beating. The tears flow as you struggle to stand up and the beatings continue. They flow over the children you’ve only dreamed about and the husband that doesn’t exist who thinks your laughter is infectious and loves the way you make scrambled eggs. That rotten devil jerkface uses every little thing as illustrations in his sermon on how much you are less than. The empty seat next to you at dinner becomes the size of the hollow empty room in your heart.
And sometimes, you know sometimes, it sucks.
We don’t talk about it. How it’s okay to suck. It’s okay to be frustrated beyond belief at the lack of gumption in others and the lack of intentionality in yourself. Sometimes, the journey has days where the rain of your wailing sloppy tears soaks your everything as your mascara creates streams of sadness down your face.
I sincerely believe we weren’t created to be alone this long.
And, at virtually all times, I manage to keep the lies at bay. I manage to throw all my weight into Love and stand up. I kick the lies out of my house and strive to use the fighting to relate to other beautiful women.
Some nights, though, I can’t stand up.
Then, in His goodness, I’m reminded that He couldn’t either on this day two millenia ago.
And because of it, I am made new.
Oh, alleluia.
But, seriously.
January 29, 2013 § 2 Comments
You are allowed to not enjoy the journey, he said.
One of the most gorgeous things about being an official adult is you have friends that have been around for over a decade. Additionally, we have all been adults of legal drinking age during that entire time. These folks know me. You cannot be around that long and not go through some crazy mess like renting a moving van on a Visa with two available dollars and somehow getting approved. Giggling on the beach together, toes in the sand, in January. Or driving through western Pennsylvania at 3am in the middle of winter because life happens sometimes, ya know? And maybe, just maybe, one of you will sleep (*cough* me) while the other one of you takes some caffeine pills while also consuming AN ENTIRE LITER OF MOUNTAIN DEW.
This is real life. You go through crap like that and there is a bond on the other side.
And so, with these kinds of friends, you type three sentences on a google chat screen and they waltz right past everything going on superficially, turn the corner and, just like that, are standing with you in the eat-in kitchen where you were having a screaming match with Jesus.
Every single time, I am caught off guard.
But, it’s so good for me.
While figuring out interpersonal communication is difficult enough, trying to figure it out between the sexes is just downright impossible, I feel. Add in to the mix everything that dances in my head at once and it’s no wonder I’m in here in the kitchen, sweatpants on and tears streaming, fighting it out with Love.
He won’t even engage in any kind of conversation…
Love is patient…
He hasn’t promised you anything…
He hasn’t acknowledged a damn thing…
Don’t forget about that one over there…
Oh, the one that doesn’t take me seriously?…
That doesn’t really narrow it down…
What, exactly, is printed on my forehead that says “Please, use me for your benefit and then become a total douche?”…
Or is that every girl’s forehead….
Oh, don’t be such a dramatist, Hames…
Jesus is enough…
He is sovereign. You believe that…
Well, yes, I believe that, but this roundabout gets old…
Let’s just sell everything and move to a new city…
It only has to work with just one…
What if I don’t have a “one”? ….
Well, then we’re going skydiving after visiting Rachel in Thailand…
I don’t WANT to go skydiving, ok that’s a lie, I do…
No, what I WANT is someone to be stupid with me in bad movies…
Dates by yourself are pretty grand…
Yes, but I thought I might have known…
Well, you’ve been wrong about all the other ones…
I just wanted to be right….
I just wanted to be considered…
And there it is. The rub. Almost all behavior done by women lies in that single thought.
“I just want to be considered.”
When things get all kinds of real during my screaming matches, I’m thankful for souls like my great friend. They pull you off of your self-made island and remind you that the show is not about you. They are the beauties that speak truth in the midst of hard things on the journey. And this one, for certain, was timely and good and soul-awakening.
You are allowed to not enjoy it, he said. If you could remember coming out of the womb, you would likely not enjoy those memories. But, you wouldn’t change anything.
It’s not about you.
It’s about Love.
But, you are allowed to not always enjoy it.
Oh, Sunday.
January 27, 2013 § Leave a comment
I don’t know about you, but Sundays are consistently at the top of my “Oh, Hallelujah” list.
Moments are most of what is on said list, but a few things grace the page, too. Things like Eliana, the new wheels, and moments like when I learned that less gluten would improve my psoriasis.
Sundays are like a new dawn. No matter how long the night has been, the dawn is full of hope and promise.
Have a beautiful Sunday.
You always have choices.
January 9, 2013 § Leave a comment
Not gonna lie, writing this post is difficult. Sometimes, there are posts that fly out from under my fingertips and in less than 45 minutes, words grace the screen and I easily hit Publish. This one has taken some effort and thought and I’ve started it four different ways thus far.
Don’t freak. I have not decided to join Hare Krishna or become a Mormon (no offense, Mormons). No, I’m not pregnant. So, take a pill, grab a coffee, and get comfy. Sadly, I have no idea how long this is going to take. Thanks in advance for hanging in there.
When I came to Raleigh for the first time as an adult, something I cannot fully explain resonated throughout all of me. “Yes. Yes, yes, and thank you. You must come here.” It took another three years and change to make it happen, but every time I drive down Western past the skyline, that same something becomes still. Peace settles in on this level I cannot explain and I know I am right where I am supposed to be.
At the end of 2010, I told a few friends that I felt as if the captain of my airplane had begun the descent. They didn’t really get it and you might not either and that’s totally okay. It just meant that I felt like, maybe, perhaps, I-wasn’t-really-sure-at-all BUT, it might be the beginning of the descent. Like the first leaf that falls, that same something in me felt as if a cue had been given to begin the end. I still don’t know if I was right. But, with graduation completed (HALLELUJAH!) and nothing really keeping me grounded (read: kids) (or husband) (no, there’s not a boyfriend either, but ya know, life is still pretty darn gorgeous thank you), the possibilities are kind of endless.
Of course, the wanderer in me says “GO! Be free. Find your own run-down studio apartment in Wicker Park, Chicago and take yourself on dates to indy films and drink malt milkshakes in the middle of winter just because they’re so lovely. Play The Civil Wars on a record player and waltz across the hardwoods of that drafty room and Skype with your momma wrapped up in all the fleece you can find.”
But, Raleigh, the rest of Me says. I love her.
Last month, a friend asked about the possibility of opening a studio together. I agreed to dig my heels in for thirty days or so. Take the month of January and crunch data, research, do lots of leg work and prep work to get something off the ground. However, in all fairness, I thought it best to consider the other side of the coin, too.
And so, this woman (I almost typed girl, but I’m 31. 31! Isn’t that nuts?)
Sorry…where was I?
Yes, so, this woman who loves to capture joy and color and light inside her box has decided to also look for work with an established studio as a photographer. You can see my work all over this blog and some of it here. People are my most favorite subject and I would love to work with like-minded creatives who have a love for Love. If you know of a company that I might fit with, feel free to let me know. In photography, it’s all word of mouth and is much of the reason I am posting this. And, if that company is in San Francisco, or Austin, or Chicago, I am more than willing to explore the possibility.
I don’t feel pulled anywhere. And I am most certainly happy. My roommates, church family, and community are incredible. My Momma and my Gran are both only 4 hours and change away. It’s fantastic here. But, I think it’s only fair to open the door and see if I might find the passageway passable. Images are, most certainly, what I have been called to for the rest of my days.
Maybe I won’t be going anywhere.
Or maybe I’ll be in Chicago.
all things new 