Rainy season
The rainy season in South Florida can be such a downer sometimes. The days start pretty and then often cloud up and turn rainy and yucky by afternoon.
The first series is from a few days ago, when everything in my yard was sopping wet.
Today, we got a little break and some evening sunshine.I made my own kind of rainy season. 
Like this:
Emily Robinson — front yard photographer
My front yard is not the greatest. It’s on a really busy street.
It has an ugly chainlink fence around it. (thank god, though, otherwise I would NEVER take my children out there.)
The foot traffic that passes by is of the questionable sort, a little too often. After a few drinks and after the kids are asleep, hubby and I sometimes sit out there and hope the weirdos pass by just for our amusement.
But with little girls in swimsuits and full bright sunshine, I often cringe a little bit.
The one good thing about it? It faces west. So obviously I get that pretty light for many, many days. Living in South Florida means I overdose on that sunshine almost daily.
But is that really such a bad thing?
Yesterday morning we started out by getting damp and dirty in the yard. Overnight Noah’s proportion storms really soaked everything.
Maddie’s bedhead was epic.
Later we walked on the beach until a huge storm rained it all out again. (Nope, didn’t bring my fancy camera to the beach.)
Then, it all cleared up and we filled up the kiddie pool and sat around in the front yard again as the sun and the kids put on a show.
Like this:
Thank you, camera.
A little blob of toothpaste got me thinking today.
I walked into the bathroom, and the puppy was licking it off the side of the tub.
I knew exactly what blob of toothpaste it was because I noticed it a few days ago while editing a photo of Maddie climbing into the tub.
“Isn’t that funny?” I thought.
I’m a shitty housekeeper, but a very keen observer.
Guess some moms might have wiped it off quickly, but I had forgotten about it.
Then the dog found it and did the work for me.
I was weirdly proud of this.
The thing is, without my camera, I wouldn’t have realized that little sticky squirt of aqua on the side of my rusting tub was a little story in a million stories in the mundane of my life.
It had the power to actually make me smile about a little bit of gross, instead of get grumpy about it.
My camera has taken me over this year.
It dictates that we will be messy and carefree on purpose, because that makes better photos.
My girls thank you, camera.
It tells me not to crop toothpaste out, because these photos are my journal for these days and the time I spend with my kids.
It frees me up to let the dog tug just a little too long on pant legs and tiny dresses because it’s pretty funny, isn’t it?
It compels me to spend more time outside, because the colors are vivid, the light is bright and the air is fresh.
My camera has helped me stop bitching about how dark my tiny house is and instead concentrate on how dramatic and lovely the shadows can be. It has helped me get over the mess a sandbox creates.
“Mommy, can we let Sonny get in the bath?”
“Sure!”
Click. Click. Click.
Our birthday party for Zoey was planned for the evening because the light is better. The camera made me do it.
As a bonus, adults feel way more comfortable to drink booze after 4 p.m. and as a consequence, kids are allowed to run free, be filthy, and have fun.
Many of our guests left a 6-year-old birthday party a little buzzed and way happier than they usually are after leaving a party for a 6-year-old.
My guests thank you, camera.
My camera has given me a pass on fighting the girls with their hair, and shown me how wild and beautiful messy strands and funky bangs can look.
It has taught me that clutter can be ugly but it tells stories. Empty paper towel roll? New puppy! Empty wine bottle? Well it’s next to a pacifier, duh?
Sidewalk chalk footprints on my floor? As long as they are in the pretty light, thank you.
This is beginning to sound a bit sappy and I’m going to blame it on my 3rd (or 4th?) Corona.
But seriously, thank you, camera.
Now if you could only help me stop yelling so much…
Oh, and the shots I got of Sonny on the bed were not worth the pee stain.
Sonny boy, part II
Maybe part II of a 25 part series for this month? How many photos of a new puppy and my kids might I possibly take?
If kids are a reminder of how quickly time goes, puppies are like a version of this on steroids with a shot of Red Bull. In newborn terms, he’s probably aging about a week each day, right?
So I hope you don’t get tired of puppy pics, because there are going to be a whole lot more, probably.
I’ll spare you the new parent details of his poops, but will mention proudly that he’s made number 2 only in the grass so far….
Puppy love
Zoey turns 6 on Wednesday. We’ve talked for months about getting her a pup for her birthday, and today we got him.
He’s a rescue from the Humane Society. A basset + something mix. He’s about 8 weeks old.
He’s our new baby boy.
Like this:
Seek and you shall find
Pretty light in a nasty bowl left on the front porch that is breeding mosquitoes.
(it was emptied after I photographed it.)
A dead plant can be made beautiful — but probably should still be thrown away after I’m done philosophizing about it through my lens.
Tools used: Bordem, sunlight, a pink-tinted filter that doesn’t belong to any of my gear and smudged with Chapstick to give it a smeary, dreamy effect when shot through.
Like this:
approximately 2,225 individual beads
Today was the annual Saint Patrick’s Day parade in Hollywood.
We go every year. Not because we care very much about the holiday, and we certainly aren’t Irish.
It’s fun, free, and very nearby in downtown.
After, we had lunch at Ricky’s.
Never heard of Ricky’s? It’s okay. But if you are cool, you should know who the owner is; Billy Mitchell.
Still don’t know? Remember the long-haired, smarmy villain from the documentary King of Kong?
If you have never seen King of Kong, put it on your list of documentaries to see right now.
When we got home, Zoey counted the number of beads on one necklace — 89, then we multiplied it by 25 necklaces to arrive at 2,225.
That kind of thing makes a kid really happy.
Happy Sunday.
Like this:
I Heart Faces — Black and White Challenge
Like so many gimmicks I’ve learned in editing along the way, black and white used to be that way for me.
Crappy photo? “Fix it” in black and white!
Sometimes, I’ll grant you, a good black and white conversion can save a lousy or boring shot.
But now I try to save black and white for when it’s appropriate. What you’ll hear a lot of great photographers say is to reserve black and white in portraits for when you need to focus on emotion.
I think this is a great rule.
I like how black and white can cut straight to the core of an image or moment. It takes away all the clutter and forces the viewer into the drama. That is a powerful thing.
This image is of Kenya. She is holding her baby girl, her first child, for the first time. She had been in labor for two days. She was exhausted, but determined to have the kind of powerful, beautiful birth she had planned for.
Her reward is evident here.
Be sure to click over to I Heart Faces and take a look at some of the amazing entries, or post your own if you haven’t already. 
iwanna take more iphone pics
But I struggle with it.
Why? Because it is f-ing brilliant.
It makes taking interesting, Holga-esque, vintage-y processed photos completely effortless.
I literally SHAKE my phone on the with the Hipstamatic app and let my phone select a photo effect randomly. I’m lazy like that.
Click. Done. And honestly, about 75 percent of the time, I’m fairly pleased with the outcome.
That does something weird to my psyche. It’s like my iphone is laughing at me. All those thousands of hours of practice with exposure and reading of blogs and fiddling with photoshop….
