The Creative Counsellor & the last year | Chilliwack Photographer

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Things have been so quiet over in this corner of the internet - I’ve still been photographing things here and there but also really treasuring a rest and refresh around my art practice and how I express myself with images. It’s been so needed - the last few years have been challenging for many reasons and the way that 2024 has unfolded has been SO healing and so different in much needed ways. In February, Jamie and I moved to the sweetest little converted barn house downtown with our cats - it has a lovely deck space where I can lay out and read books, the happiest hydrangea, and a front porch I can’t wait to fill with pumpkins in the fall.

I also am now a registered clinical counsellor with a private practice called The Creative Counsellor - focusing around neurodivergence/ADHD in adults/women (including late diagnoses), creatives navigating their practice, self worth and self esteem, as well as grief therapy. You can follow me on Instagram here! I offer virtual counselling across B.C. and in person sessions right now at a cozy rented space at Thrive Collective on Sundays, as well as select weekdays downtown.

In July my best friend came to visit - we laid around in fields, wandered downtown, watched movies we loved as kids (looking at you He-Man Masters of the Universe) and really just hung out. Last time she came through we did SO MUCH (two day trips - we did Kelowna and back and Victoria and back, both in one day and I have no idea who that version of me was and where she got the energy). This visit was a lot more low key, I think we both really just needed some time together singing songs driving down Camp River Rd and late night chats in my backyard under the moon. I will always be so grateful for friends that are soul sisters - and so grateful for getting to see so much of my family this year, too.

We also had a beautiful internment for my dad, placing his ashes in one of his favourite spots to go walking. We all gathered together, singing I’ll Fly Away out into the morning while birds flew overhead.

It’s been a beautifully slow summer - and in that, I’ve taken a break since June from my photography business and really spent some time exploring my art practice. I’ve still been shooting and creating - my editing is taking forever - but I’ve found breath in the rest and my heart is full of so many new ideas. I have loved photographing all of you for the last 10 years and while I’m not sure how long this break will be, you’ll continue to see what I’m creating here and on my Instagram.

I hope these last months have been kind to you all, too. More to come.

Taken by my pal Jen Ault

Brittany had the idea of making wine for my dad and I designed these labels from a little photo shoot we had a few years ago at Island 22. Such a happy memory for me. We had the internment in the morning, followed by a very small family gathering celebrating his life.

These beautiful roses grow wild across the street.

Eclipse Goddess | Chilliwack Creative Photographer

What feels like ages ago I did this beautiful shoot at Cultus with Siobhan D’Souza from Shiverz Designs, Audra and makeup artist Kayla Marie. This was just before the flooding started - we shot this on the day the rain began and editing went to the wayside as everything unfolded over that tough time for so many - I love going back through shoots like these and trying new things with them, so here are fresh edits! This shoot was such a bright spot in that time - it was also right around the time of the eclipse, so we named this series, “Eclipse Goddess”.

This is my favourite kind of weather to shoot at the lake in (minus the torrential rains) because everything is so rich and moody looking

Makeup by Kayla Marie and Shiverz Designs, expert leaf throwers

Wanders in northwestern Ontario... | Chilliwack Photographer

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Friends, I left the province for the first time in 6 years a couple weeks ago and it was so needed. There’s something about dipping your feet in Lake Superior, seeing fireflies under midnight skies, and sticking buttercups under your chin that just makes you feel like coming home to yourself.

I did so much - I’d forgotten the glow of country stars, how these little copper moths line the gravel roadways of Murillo and Conmee and spring up around you with every step, how Robin’s Donuts makes chocolate and coconut Robin’s eggs and they’re delicious.

And out in the family orchard, we spread some of my dad’s ashes under a red atlas apple tree. He would have loved that so much.

I took his luggage along with me, too, with a luggage tag proudly saying he’d visited Hawaii and his name and address spelled out in block capitals. I miss his writing. I miss his words and wisdom. Grief is something you always carry - even if it gets less heavier, sometimes, over time. I felt my dad with me every step of the way - but that’s like here, too. I don’t think those we love are ever far.

It was such a healing trip, and there is so much I’m healing and have been for so long. The last 5 years have passed like a blur and they’ve carried so much heaviness, so much loss, both for my family and for Jamie’s. We’ve lost 4 family members in 2 years, cancer, the pandemic, health. I felt something heal in me when I put my feet into the lake, when I travelled the old pathways me and my best friend Melissa struck out on 20 years ago. When I lay on the rocks and the gravel and felt so supported by the earth. What a beautiful thing to experience nature in these ways. I am so grateful I was able to do this.

The rest of the summer is stretching out before me and I have so many plans - mostly on healing & new projects. Sometimes that intersects. Often it does, because photographing & sharing things in these spaces is therapeutic for me, too.

I’m still taking submissions for Sourcing Joy and Grief Houses, you are so welcome to participate and there’s no fee to do it - these will be photo essays as a heart project of mine.

The pathway I’ve walked on for 20+ years, Lowkey taking a cozy snooze, feeding chickens, a butterfly with a broken wing, “Pride Lives Here” on my cousin’s house, a field of purple clover

The spot where we laid my dad’s ashes, and my cousin Melissa wandering her garden during golden hour, and Lilia and Lowkey in the field at midnight under a full moon

The Murphy House, my old dream house, as seen from the laneway, a copper moth resting on a wild daisy, my cousin planting marigolds at our grandparents’ grave, my goddaughter holding a small bouquet of wildflowers, making prints in the sun with Frankie and yard blossoms.