Making Use...

Word to You, Mom

That's the message that was written on the bottom of the menus this morning, at Blue Moon Diner.

Except, really, there are no words, Mom...

(I admire you so... can you tell?)

Want to come over on Monday/Tuesday for a big hug and a jar full of peonies?  I have both in abundance.

Yes, please?

La lune de miel

[Warning: this slideshow is kind of long, though it's a third of the size of the original, which included all of the pictures.   Guess I shot more than I realized.  This slideshow also includes the unauthorized use of music by Bob Schneider, Tift Merritt, and Death Cab for Cutie.  Hopefully these artists will forgive my transgressions, especially Tift, since she wrote her latest album during a sojourn in Paris.  It had to be done.]

10 thoughts about honeymoons:

1.  If you can, get someone else to pay for it.  

I have a knack for collecting free honeymoons.  

In January 2007, Jen and I went to a bridal fair, just to look around.  At the check-in, an overly friendly woman said, "Now who's the bride?" and Jen pointed to me.  "She is."  I filled out a card, giving a wedding date way in the future (fall 2011) and naming an out-of-state "groom" (so my cover wouldn't be blown).  "Now you're eligible for the free honeymoon raffle," the woman said happily, as I turned over my lie.  

A few days later, I got a call.  I had won the free honeymoon.  Of course, it was more or less a scam from some tour company, and of course I had been scamming them too with my made-up date and groom.  So it didn't happen.  But, still, I won a free honeymoon.

So when Todd and I decided to marry at the Clifton Inn last winter, it seemed only natural to learn that booking the wedding before January 31st qualified us for a free 6-night stay at one of Clifton's sister properties, a Paris penthouse.  Of course we'd get a free penthouse in Paris; I have a knack for this kind of thing!  

We had always said, from the realm of dating, when a honeymoon was purely hypothetical and something to talk about during a long road trip after we'd exhausted the game of would-you-rather-name-your-child-after-this-map-dot-or-that-one, that we might honeymoon somewhere like New Zealand or Argentina one day.  

But when Clifton offered a trip to Paris, it was a no-brainer.  Besides, I love Paris, and France held a special place in our relationship history.  But we could never work out the dates with Clifton, and I was itching for a honeymoon, and now I had Paris on the brain, so we went on our own.  Still, though, I have hooked two free honeymoons in my lifetime.  Not too shabby.

My point here is that if I can snag a couple of free honeymoons, you can too.

2.  Consider alternatives to a hotel.

We rented an apartment from Haven in Paris, a company I discovered online through the blogosphere.  We picked a little studio in the 18th arrondissement, just around the corner from Sacré-Coeur.  The apartment was beautiful and the HiP service was excellent.  Highly recommend it.  We had a full kitchen, a washer and dryer, flowers and wine on arrival, a super nice greeter named Didier, and the fun of staying in a real neighborhood.  Did I mention the killer view of Sacré-Coeur?

3.  Pack presents for your husband.  

He doesn't expect it, but he'll be excited to see what you brought.  Besides, who doesn't like opening a present every day?  My gifts had a honeymoon theme, if you know what I mean.  Big hit.

4.  Make plans, but not really.

I made a little outline for every day, things I wanted us to do and see, places to eat, etc... but it was vague and open to reinterpretation.  On a honeymoon, there is nothing that has to be done.  We discovered that we really couldn't get out of the apartment before noon each day, and that was fine.  We'd eat lunch at 3 when the restaurants were empty and have coffee at dinnertime before going home and making pasta with lots of parmesan cheese and black pepper at 9 pm.  We didn't plan this schedule, but it allowed us to be relaxed, to save money, and we still spent a full afternoon and evening enjoying the city each day.  

5.  Make a daily ritual.

I had hoped to take Photomaton portraits every day, but sometime between 2004 and 2009 Paris seems to have replaced all the cute, old-school Photomaton machines with the kind that takes a single picture and reproduces it 5 times, passport-style.  Not what I had in mind.  So I let go of that idea and instead had Todd sketch in my Moleskine notebook every evening.  We'd stop at a café around 5 or 6.  I'd order us café crème (me) and chocolat chaud (him) and we'd sit for up to an hour.  I'd watch the street; he would draw whatever was in front of us: the Pyramid at the Louvre, postcard stands on rue Soufflot, café chairs on the Champs Élysées, street signs by the Eiffel Tour.  One day we missed our café hour so that night he drew me in the apartment, posing like La Grande Odalisque.  Now we have a nice little collection of sketches from Paris.

6.  Eat the best of what your destination has to offer.

Baguettes and fromages.  Need I say more?

7.  Keep your eyes open for magic.

We happened to be on the Champs Élysées on the Monday night when Charlotte Gainsbourg flipped the switch and lit the Christmas lights up and down the avenue.  We didn't know it was coming (we couldn't even see fair Charlotte from where we stood), but what if we'd been walking around with our eyes closed?!  The best part, besides the cheering Frenchies as their most famous avenue came to life in lights, was that we happened to be standing directly across the street from the center of activity, where C.G. and all the media were stationed.  There was a large electrical box beside us on the sidewalk there, and just as the lights went on, we heard a loud pop from this box.  Turns out a middle-aged man with his hand in the box actually threw the switch and C.G. only pretended to do the honors over on the more glamourous side of the street.  After the lights successfully went on in the trees, the man wiped fake sweat from his brow, gave us a wink, and disappeared down the sidewalk.  It all happened so fast I couldn't even photograph him.  But now we know the truth about that.  

8.  Get out of town.

Rent a car.  Go away from wherever you are.  Who cares if you get lost and a 2.5 hour trip turns into 5?  Who cares if you get pulled over by motorcycle cops for reading a map while driving on the highway (note to self...)?  It'll do you some good to take a vacation from your vacation, to see something new, to stretch your legs across another part of the country.  

9.  Make out in public.

The honeymoon is as good an excuse as any, right?

10.  Talk about the future.  

I suppose if you honeymoon immediately after your wedding you might like to talk about the past a little bit.  Highlights from the wedding day, what was good, what was unexpected, etc...  In our case, the wedding is just a sweet memory now.  So we talked about what's ahead.  We used the break from our normal life to re-evaluate our work, to make to-do lists for the return.  We talked about our finances, and our unborn babies, and about dreams for the coming years and how we'll make them reality.  Some of these discussions were kind of heavy, which you maybe don't want to do on your honeymoon.  On the other hand, the unstructured days and abnormal amounts of together-time really make the honeymoon an excellent opportunity to not only be together but think together.  So talk a little or talk a lot but do talk.  Conversation is the unsung souvenir of the honeymoon.   

le fin.

"Local Shutterbug Ties The Knot"

Oh, that title makes me giggle.  

My own wedding is featured in an article in HITCHED, the bi-annual wedding insert of the HOOK, which is on newsstands now.  

It is a strange experience in vulnerability to speak with a reporter and let them transcribe your words to create their own version of the story.  

"Do I sound idiotic?" I asked anxiously, when Todd brought the paper home to me last Wednesday night (hot off the presses, it was).  I greeted him in the driveway and started reading before I reached the front door.  

"Of course not," he assured me, though he did laugh aloud when I commented on a point here or there that he just knew would rub me funny.  

Stephanie Garcia, the writer, did a great job, and we are excited to see ourselves in smudgy newsprint.  

You can read the article here, if you don't have access to a hardcopy of the HOOK.  

Two Months In

O, what a life.  

I can be a real pain in the ass. 

I come home and drop shoes, coat, bags and keys by the front door.  These piles live and grow right where I start them.  Much to the annoyance of my husband.  

When it's time for bed, it takes me forever to get there.  Finally I come to the bedroom, take off all my clothes, and leave them strewn across the floor.  Because it's late, he doesn't say anything about that.

I go to the gym and try to whip myself into shape.  Then I moan about my aches and pains, up and down the stairs.  It sounds melodramatic but the feeling is real.  I swear.

He offers to paint my new studio and tells me to pick the color. Then I arrive with piercing eyes.  "Are you going to do another coat on the trim?" I ask.

I talk.  A lot.  And think aloud.  And sing.  A lot.  And dance.  Some more.  Et cetera.

I leave photographs all over the house, forget to water the plants, and put coasters under dry glasses.  

I've been known to twist away from an embrace, only to come back exclaiming, "wait, you didn't kiss me!" before we part for the day.  

I also like the dishwasher to be loaded just so.  

Still, he takes the dog out before bed and brings me a fist-full of blooming dogwood branches upon his return.  

He paints "I HEART U" on my studio wall while I am bitching about the ignored nooks and crannies that aren't even visible to the naked eye.  

He seems to believe I am the most beautiful woman on the planet, which I know because he says so about 50,000 times a week.  

He is kind and patient in a way that challenges me.

"I love you even though you are complicated," he paints in big letters on another wall.  We both laugh.

But it's true.  He does.  And we are having so much fun.  

May I please be so good to him.

All photographs by Jen Fariello.

Note: yes, I was a two dress bride.  I had eight weeks to pick my wedding attire and went through many ideas--the short pink skirt, the glimmering gold mini-dress, three different white numbers, and a big taffeta skirt with my cowboy boots.  I just wanted to feel comfortable and a little bit pretty.  Finally I whittled it down to a long, ivory silk column or the big skirt with a t-shirt and boots.  

2 p.m. on the wedding day and I still hadn't decided which it would be...  

Everyone said it: "Just wear both!" 

So I did.  

Bridal Boudoir

While we were in Las Vegas for WPPI in February, Jen and I attended a talk by California-based photographer Elizabeth Messina.  She was warm and soft-spoken, and beautiful, and insanely talented and inspiring.  Basically, I kind of fell in love with her and her photographs.  So much so that when talking about her to my husband since then, I say, "Elizabeth Messina--you know, that woman I have a crush on??--blah blah blah..."  By now I think he knows.

Anyway, Elizabeth presented some of her gorgeous boudoir photographs, where her brides, who all look like supermodels, stretched out languidly, bathed in diffused light, with the camera softly focused on their curves, their jewelry, and all their beautiful, feminine features and details.  The pictures are artistic, entirely sensual, and just a little bit sexy.  

At some point during the slideshow, Jen turned to me and whispered, "we should do that before your wedding!"

Jen and I had never done anything quite like boudoir before (neither as a photographer nor as a model), but we had some fun practicing.  I happen to own a four-piece, lacy something that I had bought as a college student living in Paris.  Caught up in the whole "when in Rome" concept, and seduced by a billboard in the métro, I went out and bought the entire coquettish get-up that was being advertised.  That was quite a while ago, but as Jen said with a wink, "it's okay if it's a little tight."  

The room was warm, the model was awkward, and we didn't spend too long on the shoot, but Jen did make some beautiful photographs that highlight just the kind of feminine moments we were hoping to capture.

My groom, who had been downstairs getting ready while we played, came up to see what all the laughter was about.  So then he got pulled into a few shots.

This kind of portrait may seem a little intimidating at first but the mood can be anything from light-hearted and fun to more seriously seductive.  Boudoir is also a wonderful segue into the getting ready shots, which are some of my favorites of the wedding day.  I love photographing jewelry and shoes and the handwork on a dress.  These details are part of what make each bride unique.  And if you don't see your groom before the ceremony, it can be fun to have documentation of the hair and make-up experience so that you can share pre-ceremony moments with him after the fact.

Here's my cousin Abby doing my hair, which she expertly pulled back and pinned up in about 47 seconds.  She made me feel pretty in no time at all.

Boudoir portraits can be scheduled ahead of the wedding day as well, which is not a bad idea if you have a full wedding day planned or want to shoot in a different location.  Many of Jen's photographs convey a sense of luxurious calm but there was actually quite a bit of activity in the Carriage House of the Clifton Inn that afternoon! 

 

These two smiling faces are my aunt Ginny and cousin Meg, after they inadvertently walked into the shoot.  I think they saw more of me than I'm sharing here.  Hey, the door was open!  

All photographs by Jen Fariello.

As an aside: although I am a bit of a Francophile, I'm not crazy about the word "boudoir."  This term, which comes from bouder, the French verb "to pout," is widely used to describe the kinds of portraits I'm talking about here.  But I'm on the lookout for another expression...  Let me know if you have any ideas of other names for these special photo sessions.

So I've shared my experience.  Now I want to be the photographer!  Currently booking boudoir (or something like that) portrait sessions for brides-to-be, mothers-to-be, and women who want to feel especially gorgeous.  Because that is how you feel when you celebrate yourself.

One Month In

March: a snow day, a wedding, exhaustion, elation, pancakes, road trips, a nephew, a pink house, and the official arrival of spring.

All photographs by Jen Fariello.

Coming up: more road trips, more weddings, a move into the pink house, a concert, a festival, the official arrival of summer, projects on the pink house, a trip to Maine, a trip to Paris, and so many other unknown adventures...

I've never had an anniversary before.  Here's to celebrating the accumulation of joy-filled days.

Around the Web...

Claire Goodman, who officiated our wedding ceremony two weeks ago, has made a blog post (first of several, it seems!) about the big day on the Charlottesville Wedding Blog.  

I have written about Claire several times on here.  She is so wonderful at what she does and Todd and I were very happy to have her guiding us through the process of becoming husband and wife.

Looking back, the ceremony was my very favorite part of the day--even though it was the part that made me most nervous beforehand.  I was afraid I would be too emotional and then turn into a soppy, pink, incomprehensible mess before I could speak my vows.  

I did have one cry early in they day during a special moment with my godmother.  And, yes, it made me a little soppy and pink and incapable of words.  After that I had to be alone for a while, lay around in my underwear, drink lots of water, and listen to groovy reggae tunes to pull myself together.  Seriously.  That's what I did on my wedding day.

I could hardly speak to my bridesmaids or my parents just before the ceremony.  But I wasn't the only one feeling so nervous and emotional!  My sister and my childhood friend, two of my three bridesmaids, both took a shot of bourbon just before the ceremony began.  And my parents, who walked me down the aisle between them, agreed that it was best not to look at each other as we waited for our cue.  Instead there was a lot of arm and hand squeezing, as I recall.  Somehow we made it down the aisle--a blur of faces, fighting tears, a wave of love set to a bluegrass melody--and then A GREAT CALM CAME OVER ME.

I was shocked and THRILLED.  

Claire spoke, my brother shared a special reading, our dog slept at our feet.  We exchanged promises and wedding bands, some laughs, and some kisses.

And then we were wed!

All photographs by Jen Fariello.

Around the Web...

Jen just posted a whole bunch of our wedding photographs on her blog.  I check her blog all the time to see her latest, greatest work; it's kind of funny to see myself up there.

Leave Jen some comments!  Show her some love!  

Little details: And it was all (mostly) yellow.

It all started with the engagement ring.  A yellow diamond is a most unusual choice.  A beautiful choice, it turns out.  I tell people, even though there has been no confirmation of this theory, that he chose the ring to match my sunny disposition.  I mean, it could be true, right?  

Eight weeks.  Get a move on!  First the invitations, each hand-painted by my man.  With watercolor daffodils drying in every corner of the living room there was yellow all around.  So sunny in January.

Then there was a snow storm the week of the wedding.  He built an igloo in the yard.  We thought the real daffodils might not arrive in time.  But the skies cleared and the earth warmed up and there they were, just enough to prove us right in our early visions of the day.  So sunny in March.

He would wear his boots, he announced, and a yellow tie.  Fine, I said.  I will wear... "something pretty," though what that would be was not determined until mere hours before the ceremony.  No veil, I knew that.  Hair up.  With flowers?  Yes, silk, it was decided.  

But not yellow.

And so the day was pretty, all yellow and sunny like daffodils, or my engagement ring, or, I'm sure, my disposition.

All photographs by Jen Fariello.

March 7, 2009

This past Saturday, on a most gorgeous pre-spring evening, I got married!  The whole event took place at the Clifton Inn in Charlottesville.  And the day was exactly what my groom and I wanted: intimate, personal, in a beautiful outside setting, surrounded by family and friends, with a yummy meal and a little merriment to follow.   

My good friend, the fabulous Jen Fariello, with whom I have photographed many weddings since 2004, was our official photographer.   However, there were so many talented photographers in attendance--I don't know how I will ever organize all the pictures!  

Jen's film is still being processed at the lab.  But some digital images are starting to appear from various sources...  Deanna Mandarino flew in with her husband from Chicago for the big day and just posted some of her photographs on her new blog.  I love them and am so excited to see the different perspectives that each photographer will bring to our collection of wedding photographs.

My mind is still reeling from the weekend and my feet are slowly returning to solid ground---so I won't write too much now.   But I'll keep posting pictures as they come in, and I will share little snippets from the day, like my favorite memories and details, over the next few weeks.  

Wedding season begins...!