Welcome! I'm happy that you're here. This is the best place to keep updated on my most recent work. . .the new families that I've met. . .the latest adventures. You know, the fun stuff. Thanks for following along.
I recently had an opportunity to photograph a very special family celebration, a Pasni or a Nepali Rice Feeding Ceremony. Many of you know that our son was born in Nepal. I have a great affection for Nepal and its people. It is a beautiful country and my husband and I found the people to be gentle and kind during our time there. But that's another story for another time.
Perhaps you don't know a lot, or anything, about this Nepali celebration. Because our son was almost 4 years old when we brought him home from Nepal, admittedly I had never heard of a Pasni celebration. Well, come along with me as I share what I learned and the joy that I witnessed.
Pasni is when a Nepali child is fed his or her first bite of food other than milk, which is rice. This celebration is held at five months old for daughters and six months old for sons. Relatives and friends are invited to witness and to celebrate with the parents. This particular Pasni celebration was unique in that three sets of parents, all with infant sons, cousins to one another, were celebrating their first bite of rice on the same day! A bit hectic, for sure, but also beautiful to witness. Traditionally, it is the baby's mother who feeds their child their first bite of rice. But because of the unique circumstances, the three mothers decided to give the honor to the babies' grandparents.
The babies were dressed in beautiful outfits made of red velvet and silk and embroidered with silver and gold thread. After the grandparents fed their grandsons their first bite of rice, they placed a tika, a mixture of red powder and rice, on each baby's forehead. This is a blessing for the baby.
Afterward, other family members including aunts and cousins were invited to feed the babies.
Gifts of gold bracelets and money envelopes for the children were also given by grandparents and aunts as a token of love, luck, and prosperity.
It was truly beautiful to watch the matriarch of the family as she blessed all of her grandchildren by placing a tika on their foreheads and bowing to their feet offering an additional good omen and as a sign of respect and honor.
After the rice feeding ceremony concluded, like all family reunions, there was a lot of great food to be eaten,
tired babies to care for,
and lots of love and laughter!
Thank you to my friends Jyotsana and Adam, and to all of the new friends that I made that day, for inviting me to be a part of your joyful Pasni celebration!
To see more images from this celebration, please visit my website www.katebuckleyphotography.com. There you will also find everything you need to know to book your session to capture special moments from your family celebrations or a day-in-the-life session.
Mother's Day is less than two weeks away. Admit it. Mother's Day is a big deal. I remember not so many years ago before everyone had a mobile phone and therefore depended on a landline, some people complained because their telephone call to their mom on Mother's Day wouldn't go through due to "high call volume." I seem to recall that the call volume on Mother's Day was second only to Christmas day.
Whether or not you are a mother, you have a mother. And even if your mother is no longer here, it's still a very special day. Perhaps you're now a grandmother. (I hear that it's as great as being a mother but perhaps even better because you've kicked back all of the un-fun stuff like discipline, bedtime, and "eat-your-vegetables" to the parents, your adult children.)
Here I am with my mom, the best mom ever (and I truly hope that you would say the same of your mom,) in the fall of 1965. She used to make matching outfits for us. I have no earthly idea how she had time to do such things. I am one of five kids. My mom's generation was called The Greatest Generation with good reason.
Moms come in all shapes and sizes and are each blessed with the most extraordinary gifts. I think most would agree that moms are patient beyond measure.
Moms are also there when you need them.
They are often the first to make you laugh in the morning.
And the last to kiss you goodnight.
Simply said, our moms love us unconditionally and make us happy.
This Mother's Day, give your mom (or grandmother, sister, aunt, or best friend) the gift of captured precious memories. Memories that you will want to have forever. So years from now, you will not only remember what your family looked like, but what those days felt like. Visit www.katebuckleyphotography.com to book a documentary photography session.
P.S. New this spring. . .Documentary-style (think unposed, unfiltered, fun!) photography sessions are now available to capture your special family occasions including baptisms, first communions, graduations, birthday parties, anniversaries, first day of school, last day of school, getting ready for the prom and other "Gee, I-wish-we-had-Kate-photograph-that-for-us" celebrations. And as always, your family is how you decide to define family. For example, I also love to capture extended families including multiple generations or couples with their fur babies (aka their pets.) Contact me for details.
You've heard me say this before. The documentary family photography sessions that I love to do are about capturing and telling a family's story, no matter how one defines 'family.' While much of my work focuses on families with young children, lately I find myself on a mission to tell the stories of families with loved ones who have lived full and amazing lives. Families whose older members still have a lot to say and from whom we can learn a great deal. In this blog post, I turn to my own family, which is something that I rarely do but now the timing feels right.
I started working on this story a couple of years ago. A lot has happened since then. I think it's called 'life.' Nine months ago both my mom and dad left our family, at least in the physical sense, to go to heaven. They both lived 88 years, and I'd say that all but the last 18 months were quality years. Up until then, they were in good health, independent, and the loving and loved matriarch and patriarch of our large Irish Italian family. I'm quite sure that they are in a better place now and enjoying a perfect 'second act,' but not a day goes by that I don't miss them terribly. It has taken me this long to be able to look at these photos and to tell this story about one of the many valuable lessons that they taught me. The importance of family values.
The dictionary defines family values as 'values held to be traditionally learned or reinforced within a family, such as those of high moral standards and discipline.' The importance of family values is one of those things that you can't fully understand or appreciate as a kid. When you're young, you're too busy playing with your friends and arguing with your siblings. You're too occupied with your daily traumas and dramas. As a kid, you're most likely just not tuned into this remarkable gift that your parents have given you. This is my story of how my family values, those instilled in me by my mom and dad, have impacted my life.
One Sunday afternoon, a little over two years ago, my parents and I decided to visit my mom's hometown of tiny Export, PA. Export is located about 20 miles east of where I live in Pittsburgh. I decided to take my camera along that day. On our agenda was a visit with my mom's sister, my Aunt Teressa who lives in a nursing home. Aunt Teressa was 91 at the time and I wasn't sure how many more opportunities I would have to take some photos of mom and her sister together.
My mom is on the left and Aunt Teressa is on the right. You would have to know the Aunt Teressa of my childhood to see that she is no longer the same fiery, outspoken, opinionated, fun-loving, gifted seamstress that we all knew and loved. Sadly, dementia has taken away those parts of her personality. (On the other hand, she's a lot more easy-going these days!) On the afternoon of our visit, we found her sitting in the common area of the nursing home with her housemates. As I looked around, I was touched by the sense of family that I witnessed. Even though they were not 'blood relatives,' the women in the room seemed to share a family bond. They ate together, prayed together, socialized together, and enjoyed visitors together.
And yes, they were growing older together.
During our visit, we tried to talk about the present, including which grandchildren were getting married or graduating from high school. But aside from, "How are you feeling today?" the present was less available to Aunt Teressa. Stories of the past, such as how she would buy my siblings and me sweet pink-coated popcorn when we were young (because she was the fun, single aunt) were met with a faint smile and a nod of her head. Mostly we held her hand and talked about the birds at the feeders outside the window. She seemed very content and happy in her world.
When it was time to go, we said our goodbyes and headed down the road to the main street in Export. I'm not sure when Export had its heyday. My memories of the town when I visited my grandma as a kid were pretty much the same as what I saw that day. It's a quiet place with a small main street, a rather large church, and a mid-size school surrounded by older but generally well-kept homes. On the way into town, we drove through the single lane 'tunnel,' as we called it as kids, which was nothing more than an underpass. My dad looked over his shoulder at me in the back seat and smiled as he loudly honked the horn. The three of us laughed as I shouted, "Honk the horn! Honk the horn!" as this is what my brothers, sisters and I did as kids when we went through the 'tunnel' to warn oncoming traffic.
We then turned the corner and went up the hill to see The Big House. This is where my mom, along with her three sisters and her brother grew up with her parents.
My mom and dad were both pleased to see that The Big House was nicely maintained. But my mom shook her head and said to me, "The house is unrecognizable from when I lived there as a kid." She told me how my grandad would freeze the backyard every winter to make an ice skating rink where my Uncle Joe and Aunt Liz would skate. In recent months while cleaning out my parents home, I came across several photos of The Big House. Here is my grandma, and a man that I'm pretty sure is my grandad, standing on the front porch.
As their children grew up and moved out, my grandparents sold The Big House and bought a building on the main street in town. My grandad, who arrived in America from Italy as a teenager, was a shoemaker. The white building shown in the photo below is my grandparents' home. Grandad's shoe store was on the street level and my grandparents and Aunt Teressa lived in the apartment upstairs. My grandad died two years before I was born but I have many wonderful memories of visiting my grandma in her apartment and the smell of shoe leather and oil that remained in my grandad's shop long after he was gone.
Our next and last stop was the cemetery where my grandma and grandad were buried. I can't fully explain the respect and honor that my dad had for relatives that had gone before him, On a regular basis, dad visited and lovingly maintained at least three cemeteries where family members were laid to rest. He was our family historian and a gifted Irish storyteller if ever there was one. He was our 'keeper of the flame.'
In my mind, there is no other explanation other than family values as to why two people, 86 years old at the time, would be on their hands and knees digging and planting and watering in a cemetery high on top of a hill in Export, PA on a sunny, hot day. I was moved and in awe as I watched my parents doing what they thought was important, which was to honor my grandparents and their memory. In fact, our entire afternoon together was a testimony to the family values that my parents had instilled in me.
The longer that my mom and dad are gone from this world, the more reasons I find to thank them. It's not that I didn't appreciate them and everything that they did for me while they were here, because I truly did and I thanked them often. It's just that as I grow older, and now that I'm a parent myself, everything that they did for me is valued and cherished even more.
So, for the lessons that you taught me, the sacrifices that you made for me, and the gifts that you gave me, including our family values, thanks, mom, and dad.
When I look at the images from a session, one word often comes to mind that summarizes the story that I want to tell. Sometimes the word is 'fun!' Sometimes the word is 'adventure.' Or sometimes 'crazy' or 'silly' fits the bill! To describe my time with baby Sierra and her family, 'love' is all you need.
I believe that babies come into this world at a very specific time for a very specific reason. Sometimes it seems like such a tall order for such a little being. But whatever the timing and whatever the reason, it all has a way of working out.
Sierra has come to spread love! Look at her face! How can she not?
I joined Sierra and her family on a Saturday afternoon a couple of weeks before Christmas. The family was getting ready to celebrate not only Sierra's first Christmas but also her first birthday shortly after the holidays. There was much celebrating to be done!
What a joy to be able to capture Sierra's favorite routines with her family.
Never was bath time so much fun!
Witnessing the love between Sierra and her mom was beautiful.
Of course, all of this love and joy was meant to be shared. I quickly realized that Sierra has a special and unique bond with each member of her family. Including special moments and playtime with Pap.
Reading and snuggling with Grandma.
And hanging out with Uncle Eric.
Yet in the end, love is all you need.
A documentary family photography session need not be only a mom, dad, and their young children. A family is how you decide to define family, and that shapes your session. Recently I had the honor of spending a morning photographing a wonderful man, Tom and his son Cliff. Meet Tom, who is 91-years-young.
It was wonderful getting to know this gentleman, who has lived a very full and interesting life. Tom is the father of five children, grandfather to 13, and great-grandfather to 11 little ones. Sadly, after 50 years of marriage, his wife Bea died 11 years ago.
A retired engineer, Tom has always been a hands-on type of guy, taking care of repairs around his house and working on his car and lawnmowers. Woodworking has also been a long time hobby. In addition to making the cabinets in his kitchen, Tom made many high chairs for his grandchildren and two grandfather clocks. To help keep his mind sharp, Tom does the crossword puzzle in the daily newspaper. He is also an avid gardener and until recently, canned many of the vegetables that he grew. According to his daughter-in-law, Barbara he made "the most amazing spaghetti sauce." Admittedly, since he had to stop driving, Tom has had to give up a few of his activities outside of his home including square dancing and volunteering for Meals On Wheels. Still, I was in awe of his energy and quick mind and was touched by his kind smile and gentle demeanor.
On the morning that I met Tom, his son Cliff was visiting from Massachusetts. When I arrived, Cliff greeted me at the front of the house and led me to the backyard where I found Tom hanging his laundry.
Tom greeted me warmly and after finishing the laundry was happy to show me around his lovely home and yard. Our first stop was the basement where he proudly showed me where his grandchildren and great-grandchildren had written their names on the wooden beams.
He then leads me to his workshop, where in addition to those highchairs and clocks, a lifetime of projects was lovingly created and many a broken thing was fixed.
Tom then invited me upstairs to the living room to see one of the two grandfather clocks that he made.
I also learned a little bit about his lovely wife Bea, who was a nurse and a talented quilt maker.
Tom showing me a framed photo of Bea and her quilts.
We then headed to the backyard where Tom was happy to share one of his other favorite places, his garage. He ruefully smiled as he looked at no less than five lawnmowers in various stages of being repaired. "None of them work!" he told me. "Maybe someday," he added.
We then made a quick stop to admire his vegetable garden, filled with several varieties of beautiful red and yellow tomatoes, split and bursting with ripeness.
Tom then headed to join Cliff who was busy replacing a set of wooden doors that cover the steps leading to the basement. Not for a minute did I think Tom would pull up a chair and watch from the back porch. He did exactly as I expected he would. He grabbed his tools and worked side-by-side with his son. They cut wood, measured, hammered nails, talked and adjusted their project plan along the way.
Finally, when the new doors were in place, Tom did the final inspection, checking that everything was in alignment and that the hinges were tight and secure. He smiled at Cliff, giving his approval as if to say, 'That will do nicely.'
It was then time for me to leave. I won't soon forget Tom. A true inspiration in so many ways. Thank you, Tom and Cliff, for a truly memorable session.
To see more images from my time with Tom and Cliff, please visit my website, katebuckleyphotography.com and the gallery Tom and His Son Cliff.
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