Coastal Kitchen | Seattle Interiors Photographer

When you think of Seattle, you may think of moody forests and mountains (which we have in droves), but we also have a huge amount of waterfront around the Puget Sound and many lakes. I headed up north near Marysville to capture this beautiful kitchen designed by Anneke McConnell.

I loved the mixture of wood tones and different stones used in this beautiful space. Mixing elements keeps the feeling dynamic and keeps your eye moving, and it also helps the space feel organic and layered. My favorite area in this space is the light-filled dining nook looking over the water. I can picture spending an entire afternoon there with a book and coffee.

Design: Anneke McConnell

Edgy-Glam Seattle Home featured in Wall Street Journal | Seattle Interiors Photographer

The Queen Anne neighborhood in Seattle is full of gorgeous old craftsman homes, tree-lined streets, and the sweetest little downtown neighborhood. When we first moved to Seattle in 2014, we were completely enchanted with the area and settled in for our first year. Taking long walks around the top perimeter of the hill, we’d take in the stunning views of the Seattle skyline and the Puget Sound, reveling in our decision to relocate to the Pacific Northwest. The area near Kerry Park was our favorite to stroll, so it felt very full circle to photograph a beautiful home in that same neighborhood for Wall Street Journal recently.

Designed by K+L Interiors and contracted by Blue Sound Construction, this edgy-glam Seattle home blends together some of the classic design of the 20th century with some strikes of modernity that give the home such a luxe and modern feel. The black drapery in the primary suite is stunning in contrast to the bright view out the window. The crown jewel of this space is the epic top floor great room which features a large walk-out deck that takes in the Seattle skyline and water to mountain views.

See the full Wall Street Journal article here.

Design: K+L Interiors

Contractor: Blue Sound Construction

Lapis Lane Cabins | Seattle Airbnb Photographer

Heading over to Whidbey Island always feels so exhilarating to me. I have so many great memories, from spending my first Seattle birthday with my husband there many years ago (and screaming 25 and aliiiive! out of the sunroof of the car), to day trips taken with our kids. It’s where our first started walking in a cozy cabin tucked way into the woods. He sat on the stone fireplace hearth and just stood up and walked away! We’ve also taken family from out of town when we really want to impress them with quaintness and views for days.

Needless to say I was thrilled at the opportunity to capture Lapis Lane Cabins in all their Whidbey glory. Also tucked away in a beautiful forest (isn’t everything over there?), this property has three magical structures that have been incredibly and artfully detailed by the owners Elaine and Dimitri. Artists in method and execution, they’ve created a magical experience in both interior and exterior. Elaine is a talented landscape designer and gardener and the grounds are so magical, with moody outdoor bathtubs and showers to hammocks under mature trees. Inside a renovated barn is a window-clad room filled with natural light and reflecting the greenery of the surrounding property. They’ve been Airbnb hosts forever, and have a true passion for hosting.

Photographing these spaces was such a joy. I was free to create in accordance with the feeling of each space. There is a time and a place for bright and crisp images, and there’s also a time to honor the feeling of a space and translate that in a photograph. This latter approach has become my closer calling lately. If a room is close and cozy it should be portrayed that way, allowing for the viewer to really imagine a peaceful afternoon spent reading on a porch rocking chair with a quiet bedroom just behind reach.

I hope you enjoy this beautiful property!

Letting That Sh*t Go: A Retrospective

Summer has gone on and on here in Seattle (and the SMOKE) but it’s slowly getting better. A few crisp mornings have felt really good and helped ease me into a different mindset. Unpacking a lot of feelings (as one does) about my habits toward work, and also feeling gratitude for the path I’ve taken and the ways in which I’ve evolved over the years. I had a camera roll moment the other day — you know, when you fall backwards in time and it all replays to you in a new and different sense?

I lost my favorite beanie two Christmases ago. We were staying with family in a big cabin near Chelan and I arrived with it and departed without it. I’ve toiled about it for two years, maybe ridiculously so. I got that beanie when Mike and I first arrived in Seattle years ago. We were getting ready to meet my aunt, uncle and cousins at Kalaloch for our first camping trip (together, ever, and first in WA). It was mid-summer, and we Chicagoans figured we’d be fine in whatever tee and shorts we packed. We were WRONG. As we made our way around the peninsula we were frigid. And wet. And a little panicked. We pulled off in a very very remote Goodwill parking lot and ventured forth to get some warmer gear that we’d probably never use again. I pulled the hat off the rack, gave it a sniff (like one does at Goodwill), and bought it for two or three dollars. It didn’t leave my head (sleeping in a beanie will always feel like camping to me) for four days. After that we were bonded.

The earliest photo of my beloved hat.

Flash forward to the two Christmases ago, I was bulging pregnant with my second and devastated at my loss. Every now and then I go back to the many many many photos I have of myself wearing that hat and study its details trying to compare it to the zillions of other gray wool beanies I’ve seen online. Nothing has been just right, even though I’ve made several 85% right purchases.

I fell into one such hole the other night and came across some photos from 2016. I was miserable. I mean, my face was smiling but my eyes told a different story. I felt so lost during that stage of my life. I was working a job that demanded an incredible amount of my energy, and had some very toxic leadership situations. I was also in a life stage where I was expecting my job to save me. I thought my career would make me happy, or that it should. I felt like I was truly failing because I wasn’t thriving and didn’t see a way out. I googled “how to leave retail” in desperate fits feeling utterly deflated that I hadn’t figured it out.

I could go on about the transformation that happened over the next few years, and about how I left that job and started my own business, but that’s another story for another day. It’s relevant to now because I’ve been making shifts and changes in my own business ever since it started. However, sometimes I get stuck in ruts where I believe that the sum of my suffering is the sum of my tenacity, and that seeing through difficult situations is virtuous, even when those difficult situations are probably toxic and detrimental to my wellbeing. I’m telling myself as much as I’m telling you: the suffering doesn’t do shit. No one is rewarding any suffering on my part. As a matter of fact, that kind of suffering out of dedication’s sake is the biggest drain on my productivity and inner creative genius that is desperate to make bold choices and create from passion.

In a rare moment of total clarity the other night as the lead-heavy blanket of anxiety and doubt was starting to settle in for a long winter’s nap I suddenly zoomed 10,000 feet above myself and realized that the suffering I was enduring was optional. And I decided to end the source of it and stop working on that project. Along with any freedom from a decision to stop something professionally as a freelancer comes the equal and opposite panic of the well of income drying up. But then I remember something my grandpa told me years ago as I was starting out. He had his own business for many years and he said, “Once I started I always had work.” And it’s the truth. The work comes, and it always has. Whatever superstition you might be telling yourself about your income situation (and I’m saying this to myself as much as to you"): freaking cut it out. Look at how far you’ve come, the beautiful things you’ve created, the wonderful people you’ve met. If you think the well is running dry look around at all the beautiful proof that you’re being an utter fool and get on with the good work.

One thing I will not let go of: replacing my hat.

I created these photos for Laude the Label on a beautiful October afternoon as I was basking in all of these thoughts. Laude creates beautifully made pieces that transcend trend and give back to the earth and the people who make the garments. Really good for existential pondering, too. :)