She Curled Her Hair. So We Went.
There are moments in motherhood that don't arrive with much warning. You come home expecting an ordinary evening, and instead your daughter is standing there with her hair curled just because she wanted to see what it looked like. She smiled and asked, "Do you want to take pictures?"
The answer was obviously yes. So we grabbed a white Free People dress, her favorite cowboy boots, and headed to Old Town Scottsdale. It was still 108 degrees. The sidewalks radiated heat. She laughed at me every time I suggested "just one more."
Old Town has a personality all its own during summer. The stucco walls glow. The tile catches the evening light. The trees create little pockets of shade that feel almost magical after the Arizona sun has spent all day baking the streets. It doesn't try to be perfect. It just feels lived in. Which is probably why I love photographing there.
The funny thing about having teenage daughters is that these opportunities become rarer than you expect. They're busy. They have friends. Jobs. Plans. Opinions. (Especially opinions.) So when one of them decides she actually wants to spend an evening with you... you don't overthink it. You go. Because one day these spontaneous evenings quietly become memories. And I know enough now not to miss them.
As I photographed her, I kept thinking about something I've learned this year. The little girl doesn't disappear. She simply grows taller. She still laughs the same way. She still tilts her head when she's amused. She still gets excited about feeling beautiful. She's becoming a young woman.
But she's still there. And every once in a while... the light catches her just right... and I can see both of them at once. That is why I take the picture.
