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After searching to no avail to find someone in the D. C. area who might be able to help, the closest place I found was in New Jersey, and their quote was $700 per chair, just to repair the wood damage and not including any upholstery – and even at that price, still would have been a steal for two designer vintage chairs. Getting the chairs to New Jersey was in the realm of possible, although I never got as far as pricing out shipping or figuring out if I could drive them there before I put all of the pieces, disassembled, into boxes (the wood shells) and plastic bags (the cushions) and let them take up valuable space in the single storage closet in our condo…and then proceeded to move them just like that to two more houses, where they sat in various empty rooms or closets, waiting to be brought back to life. But when I found myself with open space in my schedule for an unknown amount of time, and saddled with a goal that I made at the end of last year – to finish all of my current unfinished projects in our house before buying anything new – AND finally having enough knowledge, at least of how to bring wood back to life, to have a place to start…it really, truly felt like this was the time to try. I’m sure that if I had known six years ago, when I found these chairs, that it would take close to seven months of active work to refinish them, I would have had second thoughts – and while the chairs sat for years in storage, I certainly did wonder if I would ever get around to making them usable again.

So when shit started getting real last week (in Austin) and social distancing became a thing we were all doing, I fought internally and resisted canceling for several anxiety-filled days and sleepless nights, bargaining that we could still go and maintain social distance while traveling, avoiding restaurants and social situations because we’d be outside and in a remote place and could use Instacart to get groceries delivered and wipe down everything we touched with wet wipes (listen, my imagination is really, really good at working around obstacles and restrictions which makes me good at dreaming up new things to make but also can lead me to believe I can/should do things that are NOT RATIONALLY The sense of loss was all-consuming; all of the months of building up courage to create again, of shutting down resistance day in and day out to be able to keep going, of finally getting to a place where I felt excited and energized again by plans and goals, and then in an instant having to delete those hard-won plans and goals because they were for an alternate reality that didn’t come to pass, a future that felt full of being able to fulfill my deepest desires for adventure and experiencing the abundant beauty the world has to offer that now, at best, gets put on hold. I’ve watched authors cancel book tours of their highly anticipated new releases, work they’ve poured months and years into making and fully deserves to be honored; other creatives canceling workshops that their hearts dreamed up as ways to help and connect with others; couples canceling and rescheduling weddings – celebrations of life and love that they’ve planned to share with their closest people. I follow a local flower farm/florist on instagram (@Petals_Ink), who had an abundance of flowers to sell after SXSW and weddings were canceled, so I decided to order a market bouquet as a way to bring wonder and beauty and joy into our home – flowers are always the fastest way to that for me, most especially spring time flowers.

The sunlight sparkles off the surface, inviting you to join it in sinking below, as it streams through the tiny waves lapping the edge of the rocky ledge upon which you’re standing. As you gaze down into the water, you can’t help but notice the distance between you and the deep and you anticipate the uncertainty and acceleration of your free fall before the fingers of the water reach out to catch you. You revel in the clarity, in the weightlessness of your body, in the bubbles that float above you as you kick of the bottom with all of your might and your body rushes, picking up speed, toward the sunlit surface that looms above you. The water pushes you higher and higher in a blanket of bubbles and you pop through the surface and gulp in fresh air.

This looks like pitching shoots that don’t fit neatly into a box – are they brand shoots, or portrait shoots, or narrative shoots, or fine art shoots or something else entirely? Because this has been the biggest shift for me over the past 18 months, I’m finding myself drawn to other people who make from a place that feels bigger than themselves and that seems like the most beautiful way of connecting and finding community. And before I get to more about Kara’s spiritual and creative process, I just want to leave you with words from Elizabeth Gilbert, whose words in a podcast resonated within me so strongly the moment I heard them weeks after making these photos, and felt like exactly what I was trying to make visible in this shoot, by sharing a story where spirituality and creating art are in a magnificent dance together: I hope you find something in the words here that encourages your innate ability to create. To me, the definition of spirituality is really just being concerned with elevating your own or another’s soul experience to the highest possible good, and in that way, I try to incorporate spirituality into all moments of every day life.