and laughing
sour
Slowing down? Not really my thing.
I’ve got four kids, a farm full of animals who run the show, and a brain that doesn’t believe in “off.” My life is like a sitcom—just with more goats and fewer laugh tracks. But honestly? That’s where the best stories are. The ones you tell over and over, complete with dramatic reenactments.
anything 90s,
lover of sunshine when it's raining,
Here’s the thing — I’m a little bit of everything. A lot of heart. A lot of nostalgia. Door County is my roots — it’s where I fell in love, raised my family, and always find myself coming back to. It’s where nostalgia practically slaps you in the face, like the smell of campfire smoke or that first cool breeze off the water. And now? It’s the backdrop for capturing the moments that make life worth remembering.
candy,
til I cry
So, if you’re looking for someone who gets that life isn’t about perfect poses or rehearsed moments, I’m your girl.
The Art of Noticing
I’ve always been drawn to the quiet magic hiding in plain sight. The way hands instinctively reach for each other. The soft flutter of eyelashes during a sleepy gaze. The kind of stuff that happens when no one’s paying attention — but leaves a mark that sticks.
I’ve had a camera in my hands for as long as I can remember. Back then, it might’ve been a janky disposable or an early 2000s digital wonder (shoutout to overexposed selfies). These days, it’s the real deal — but the heart behind it hasn’t changed. I’m still chasing the same thing: capturing the moments you don’t even realize you’ll want to hold onto.
I’m here to notice those things for you. To bottle them up so you can remember not just how it looked, but how it felt.
take a peek into mine
Next →
mama first
My life is a full-on circus powered by love, chaos, and a dangerously well-stocked snack drawer. I’ve got four wild kiddos (six if you count my pigs, Dewey and Woogie), a flock of chickens who think they run the place, and a house that hasn’t been quiet since… well, ever. And you know what?
I’m obsessed with it.
My kids keep me grounded — or, more accurately, running around like a maniac. The animals? They’re just here for the comedic relief. Together, they remind me that life is meant to be lived loudly, wildly, and with absolutely zero concern for perfection.
(and Always, Forever, Amen)
Homestead Momma
Chickens, ducks, goats, and whatever animal showed up uninvited this week — welcome to my farm… or, as I like to call it, the world’s most lovable hot mess. Is it a functional farm? Eh, not really. Is it full of love, laughter, and impulsive animal adoptions that my husband definitely didn’t approve? You bet.
Listen, I’m a sucker for a fluffy chick or a scrappy stray that just needs a little TLC. Injured critters? I’m taking them home. Baby goats? I obviously need another one. Honestly, I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve said, “Okay, but this is the last one… probably.”
At the end of the day, it’s not about picture-perfect pastures or Pinterest-worthy farmhouses (because, let’s be real, that’s not happening here). It’s about building a life that feels warm, a little wild, and completely us — feathered friends and all.
Blue Hour Hits Different
Golden hour? Sure, it’s gorgeous. I love that soft, glowy light as much as the next photographer. But can we talk about blue hour for a second? You know — that quiet moment right after the sun takes its bow, when the world is all hushed blues and dreamy vibes? That’s where the real magic hides.
It’s the exhale after a long day, the quiet hum that lingers when the world finally settles. Everything feels softer, colors deepen, and time stretches just enough to let you savor the momentng feels softer, colors get richer, and time seems to slow down.
That’s where the soul is. It’s understated, it’s genuine, and it’s just quietly... there, waiting for you to notice.
the way love looks when you’re not performing for the world.
So yeah, golden hour gets all the fame. But blue hour? That’s where the heart is. It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. It’s just real. And I’m here to capture it.
Game Night Antics
Let’s be honest — game nights are only partly about the games. They’re really about the snacks (the true heroes of the evening), the bizarrely competitive streaks that surface, and those laugh-so-hard-you-snort moments that become family lore.
Winning? Sure, it’s nice. But game nights are more about the overlapping conversations, the perfectly timed comebacks, and the kind of playful jabs that live on forever. It’s not about following the rules — it’s about the moments where someone insists they weren’t cheating or another person starts a heated debate over the rules they just made up, and everyone leaves with a full belly and even fuller hearts.
I’m not saying we have to be best friends… but you’re still here, reading this, so it’s looking pretty promising.
Honestly, I’m the type of person who will show up to your session like we’ve known each other for years — probably with snacks and definitely with stories. If you’re down to laugh, get a little messy, and maybe overshare a bit, then yeah… we’re going to get along just fine.
THE BEST OF FRIENDS?
Let’s Do This →
