once was

once was, originally uploaded by lavendamemory.

we like to hold onto them,
filling colored boxes with our memories,
storing best times in the attic.

we like to think that there were times
when we were happy-
happier then
than we are now.

we like to think that smiles caught
on film can erase the weight of
life pressing in from both sides of the shutter.

but perhaps
until a picture ages (as do we)
it cannot speak the truth.

I give you this

I give you this, originally uploaded by lavendamemory.

because I feel the rain
beating down
and scouring dirty elbows, knees,
and limbs.

because we forgot to make it special-
those three months of
climbing hills, past the strangers,
past the tiny dogs steered by
tiny men in trousers.

because the night tastes of
everything I had when you were laying
next to me.

Dress Shoot

I am shooting with a local clothing designer, Julie, this summer. She is amazing and I highly recommend checking out her vintage-chick site.  http://www.frockyjackmorgan.com We will be shooting some wedding dresses in a swamp-slash-forest area. The shoot will be recorded by Shields Films, a video productions studio which is incidentally, also amazing. I have placed a link to his site to the right.  

I am so, so excited to work with such dedicated artists. I will keep you updated as the date approaches!

Ai Kawanaka

Ai Kawanaka was born in Okayama, Japan. is a 21 year old gravure model. Her likes playing the piano and badminton. She has been a bikini model since 2004.

Nana Eikura Hotties Idol

Nana Eikura was born on February 12, 1988 is a Japanese model, actress, and occasional radio show host. She is a well-loved Japanese idol.

yeah, i do

I have so many ideas for photo shoots swimming through my head. I am tempted to blog them down, but that's the writer in me craving some logic. I need to get these ideas on film, or to be more specific- digital. 

Life is so strange isn't it? Just last year I was planning and preparing for a life spent overseas. And now, here I am in Spain (though I was thinking a little farther east at the time) itching to return home. It doesn't make sense how much can change in just a few moments, the day I met Jelani, the night he finally said, "yeah, I do. I love you".

And that leaves today, the person I am today. An artist, a writer, can I possibly say a photographer? A person who finally remembers what it's like to be a kid again. To believe in the impossible dreams of childhood.

Anyhow, I look forward to coming home. My love.

Mazda 3i

I am so excited to announce that I have decided on the model for my new car! Tada! Here it is. It is the 2008 Mazda 3i. Now I won't have to steal my husbands car (which he hates) to run errands, drive to work and out to school.

The Prince And His "Friends"

The Prince And His "Friends", originally uploaded by bonnie tsang photography.

How typical. The prince is portrayed as the only one living "outside of the box". Even if he is followed by the lovely brunette.

Saki Akai Japanese Gravure Idol

Saki Akai was born in Kyoto, Japan. Her is a Japanese Gravure Idol and she love watching movies, including cooking. She's look very sexy with her body is gorgeous.

Ako Masuki one of the avex girl-group

Ako Masuki is a member of the avex girl-group and futsal team carezza. She was Born on April 16, 1987 at Shimane Prefecture , Japan . Her hobbies include Agriculture, cleaning, washing, origami. Her special Skill as Sports (any type of ball game), piano (for ten years).

Potential shoot

Ese rostro que me mira y es mirado, originally uploaded by amilde86.

I am trying to find some photos that reflect and encompass an idea I have in my head. this comes pretty close. this summer I would like work on the artistic side of my photography portfolio, so if any of you blog readers are interested in modeling, let me know. chao.

Ami Ishii is very sexy in violet bikini

Ami Ishii is a Japanese super Model star was born on 14 October 1980 in Tokyo, Japan. Her body measurements are Breast: 83 , Waist: 59,Hips: 86. She look very sexy in the violet bikini.

Win a Free Photo Shoot!

I am excited to announce my very first trash-the-dress contest! This is a great opportunity to get some incredibly unique photos in locations of your choice, so you don't want this to pass you by!

Here's the deal:
*You must be engaged or have already gotten hitched
* Send me a picture of you and your dress
* Tell me in 200 words or less why you should win this session and your ideas on where and how you want to rock this shoot!!!
* Please include your name and phone #
*Deadline is July 15th, 2008


Extra Tip:
The more creative, the better!!!!!!!!

It's as simple as that!

You can check out this link http://www.trashthedress.com/ to see some of the awesome possibilities!


I'll be the judge and the person with the best entry will win!

Send your entries to lavendamemory@gmail.com by 7/15/2008

If you have any questions, please post a comment here!


I can't wait to see all your awesome entries! Good Luck! :)

Screen Doors

flower girl, originally uploaded by lavendamemory.

Here is a short story to read: enjoy.

I wake in the night, because my bedroom is separated from the mainframe of our house, only a poorly insulated washroom away from our carport, and I heard the rise and fall of voices through my sleep. They fumbled their way through my dreams until I awoke, immediately sitting in my bed, tense with fear. Careful not to make too much noise, I creep out of my bedroom into the laundry room. I stand very still behind the screen door and peer through the metal grating.
It takes me a moment to make out their silhouettes against the false autumn glow of streetlights. I feel strangely dizzy as one does after rising too quickly from a restful state. The night seems to pull at me, drawing me into a numbing spiral, towards the cool, stone tiles. I knuckle sleep from eyes, stubbornly and yes, I have made out the faces of my mother and our neighbour; no, I was not dreaming. Their voices tremble beyond their octaves, demanding volume far beyond their heated whispers. I cannot make out much of it, but I understand my mothers’ flailing arms and bent posture to mean trouble.
I feel sorry for Gene, our neighbour and acknowledge, with calm indifference, the dangerous presence of my mother. I also begin to feel the familiar undercurrents of fear heighten my senses to static. The same fear that many adults have inaccurately characterized as “maturity for my age.” It is this same fear that I will look back on in four years and pinpoint as that which set me apart from my peers.
We have pictures in our house of Gene holding me at the age of four. I look happy and safe against his sweaty balding head, his shining, crinkled eyes. In the pictures I often have tiny paws pressed against his face, or arms wrapped around his neck. There is even one, which I still have today, of us in front of mom’s half-way house in Laredo. And I wonder why he would have travelled all that way, a three- hour drive, just to bring me cookies and take that picture.
There is a sudden burst of volume and the two figures move towards each other.
“I’m tired of this fucking shit,” my mom yells.
“Susana!” Gene yells. There is a pause, a moment where I can hear nothing except the scrape of metal against my ear and then, “No!”
I hear a noise, the same noise my dog made when he was sick last year just before he died. It was louder than I’d thought, because the neighbours are arriving to their porches, armed with porch lights, robes and questions. Their faces and the light pouring from doorways left ajar distract me with their possibilities. I imagine the mothers, the fathers and children inside. I imagine a life on the other side of that doorway, where middle of the night disturbances caused by ungodly neighbours would incur such a pure response of disgust, or surprise.
I remember Gene and the terrible sound as if he’d been punched, or worse. I still can’t make out much more than shadowy figures and given the right angle, two angry profiles. Suddenly, however, my mother is walking towards me, towards the screen and the house. I shuffle away from the door, with only seconds before she rushes past, pressing into the dark far corner. She doesn’t notice me. I relax my tortured lungs and breath again. I still don’t move though.
The whirling sound of an ambulance fills the street and without thinking, I run back towards the screen, this time boldly throwing it open and stumbling into the harsh heat of the night.
There are people now. There are many of them. I am confused as to how they’ve arrived so quickly. They are talking excitedly. As a group, they seem to move and throb and breath, surrounding someone. They are surrounding a man. I can barely make him out behind the limbs of all the people. The siren screams louder, drawing closer.
No one seems to notice me, so I move carefully toward the group of five, maybe six people. Where is my mother? This is her house and something happened. What has happened? I am afraid to know. Or, worse, I am afraid I do know.
A leg, an arm and an elbow sync together in a brief moment, clearing a window for me to see what they can see. And I am stunned. Everything is silenced in my shock and I am rooted still, watching strangers gather together to nurse Gene’s wounded arm. They are deep, straight cuts. Four of them dressing his arms like ruby bracelets.
He sees me, but pretends not to. He stands suddenly, his balance regained. The people step back.
“It’s nothing.” He says, looking and not looking at me. “It’s nothing.”

Water Portrait

Water Portrait, originally uploaded by lavendamemory.

I love this portrait, because anna looks kind of like a greek mermaid or something. Her hair and makeup seem to sparkle and weave as the water reflections too.