Portraits from the Heart of Summer
There’s something that happens when a person steps just outside the crowd—when they wander into the grass, the wind catches their clothes, and the weight of performance drops. That’s when I see it. A flicker of essence, raw and unguarded. At Wild Zen Yoga Fest and Fern Fest, I had the privilege of catching just a sprinkling of these unfiltered, breathtaking moments. Faces lit with joy—bodies in motion. People are coming alive.
I love portrait photography. For over a decade as a digital creator with CurlyHost, I’ve played in the pixelated realm—searching for images that felt real amid the polished sea of stock photo perfection. When you’ve scrolled through thousands of images looking for truth, you learn: nothing compares to the spark of an authentic human expression. People respond to faces in less than three seconds. Our mirror neurons—the ones wired to connect—light up when we witness someone else in their joy, their curiosity, their play.
I think I have a lot of mirror neurons. Maybe because I’m an identical twin. I spent my childhood reading the smallest shifts in my sister’s face from across a room—an arched brow, a softening eye, a suppressed grin. We could do a whole comedy sketch without words, just a glance and a wiggle. We were always being watched, and once we stopped hiding from the gaze, we began to play inside it. That’s what portraiture feels like to me. A mirror. A dance. An invitation to be seen without flinching.
At Wild Zen, people walked into my space wrapped in nature’s soundtrack and left wrapped in color. Watching someone put on a skirt or scarf and spin is one of my favorite things. There’s a split second, after the turn, when they lose their balance—and almost every time, they giggle. That moment? That laugh? It’s everything. It’s the body remembering how to feel.
The fabrics I make hold a hundred moods. I dye them in silence, in music, in grief, in prayer. And when someone else wraps themselves in it and lights up—it feels like a conversation across time. I call it dopamine dressing—letting your body instinctively choose what it needs. I had a station at both festivals where people could explore their personal color story, learn about undertones, and seasonal palettes. But you know what mattered most? Watching someone pick their favorite color and just glow in it.
I taught people how to wrap and tie their scarves—how to wear them like crowns, like wings, like armor. These portraits are just a handful of the humans who said yes when I asked, “Will you dance with me?” And even more said no at first. Or hesitated. Because somewhere along the way, someone told them they were too much. That their voice was too loud. Their body too big. Their joy too inconvenient. But to me? The human form—especially when it’s playing—is the most beautiful sight in the world.
Watching someone lean back and laugh—it stops time. It’s like watching a flower bloom in fast forward. And when I see it, I bloom a little too.
We need more of that. More witnessing. More celebrating each other’s joy. Not through a screen. Not through AI. But through real, embodied presence. We need the scent of summer sweat and the tangle of grass and the laughter that bubbles up from the soles of our feet. We need to get dirty. To face our fears. To feel the wind and realize we’re stronger than we thought.
So to everyone at Smiling Acres who played with me, who let me capture a smidge of your essence—thank you. Your faces reminded me why I do this. Your joy helped mine rise to the surface.
This summer, I’ll be offering private dye sessions outside—a one-on-one experience where you’ll find your color, learn to tie and play, and be photographed in the fullest version of you. Let’s create something together. Let’s make art from joy.
📸 Book a private Power Portrait or dye session: Book a Session
🌈 Follow the journey: @MoreJoyIsPossible
Because your joy is meant to be seen.
