Chicago Family Documentary Photographer

Now touch the air softly,
Step gently. One, two…
I’ll love you till roses
Are robin’s-egg blue;
I’ll love you till gravel
Is eaten for bread,
And lemons are orange,
And lavender’s red.

Now touch the air softly,
Swing gently the broom.
I’ll love you till windows
Are all of a room;
And the table is laid,
And the table is bare,
And the ceiling reposes
On bottomless air.

I’ll love you till Heaven
Rips the stars from his coat,
And the Moon rows away in
A glass-bottomed boat;
And Orion steps down
Like a diver below,
And Earth is ablaze,
And Ocean aglow.

So touch the air softly,
And swing the broom high.
We will dust the gray mountains,
And sweep the blue sky;
And I’ll love you as long
As the furrow the plow,
As However is Ever,
And Ever is Now.

–

by William Jay Smith

I had this poem memorized in high school, long before I had my own babies snuggled in my arms. And something about this beautiful family session made me think of it all over again. Maybe it was all the gentle swaying and bouncing Henry received. Maybe it was the home that felt so rich and layered with its recent beautiful labor. Maybe it was the palpable love between two mothers. Or all of it combined.

I walked through the gate on a sunny Saturday morning and climbed the wooden stairs to an open, welcoming porch. It’s a lovely perch from which to watch the baby buggies, the young families, the pups, the ice cream peddlers. Warm coffee in hands, Amanda and Jodi watch the neighborhood go by, and in between long sips, softly lullabying Bob Marley to baby Henry.  Cats slip through the fence, peering up to say hello and then dart away.

We stroll into their sweet garden; high fences block out sight and sound of their bustling urban ‘hood. I feel captivated by co-mingling herbs and roses and lettuces and grasses. The light is gorgeously dappled and showing off in a gentle breeze. Fat summer leaves are dancing shadows across the yard, flower boxes, sleeping faces, thus giving us an extraordinary look at this time and place. Six months from now the yard will be aglow in autumnal hues and Henry will be sitting like a prince; a year from today he’ll be padding in the downy grass by himself, chasing the visiting birds and butterflies.

After a nourishing nap and stretch, we head back in so Jodi can start a magnificent bison sauce. She chops and blends with the the ease of a seasoned chef. A written recipe is notably absent. Amanda and Henry bounce on the ball, bringing calm. They chat and Jodi moves about the enviable space–alive with color and decor-while the bouquet of onions and peppers and carrots and garlic and bison caramelizing in tomato paste creates Van Gogh-esque swirls throughout the air.

Henry visits his crib, and here at the ripe age of seven weeks, begins to track his mobile above. His legs kick his frog sheets, his arms flutter, and his eyes are locked on the colorful scene. Musical notes pour from the crib, and his mothers are adorably in awe of this new milestone.

A full circle of nursing and diaper & outfit changes, and it’s time to let them go on with their ordinary Saturday.

My wife and I wanted a photographer that would capture not just an image but our unique story–Jen did that and more, she is a true artist. We love the work, wish I could have her follow us around more often! Here’s the knitty gritty: Jen is an excellent photographer, she was smack dab on time for our appointment, and she is a genuine delight to spend several hours with. We highly recommend Jen Lucas Photography, and will use Jen for future photography projects.