Wednesday September 30th, 2009
I sit at my computer today. The sun is shining through the window, David is blaring Radiohead from the other room. I’m feeling emotional. I’m caught in that weird in between place between wanting to get things done, and wanting to disappear for a month and lose myself in a sleepy southern seaside town with winding streets and nothing to do but feel the breeze on my skin and inhale the salty air tinged with the faint scent of burning leaves.
I wrapped up my 3 day September workshop on Monday. We had an awesome group and it was go, go, go the entire time. Many of them traveled back to attend the workshop after it was cancelled in June. I was so glad to meet them all and thank them in person. We had a lot of fun, but like many of the other 20 women, I’ve spent the last 48 hours wandering around the house trying to figure out WHERE I PUT MY BRAIN. It was a long, exciting weekend and much like a kid after a slumber party I have needed a few days to crash on the couch and recoup. One of the girls sent me some images of me in action from Day 1, shooting with the kids.
Here’s me looking rather teacherly, and/or constipated.
And this photo I like a little bit better, me looking hard core, laying in the middle of the road and all.
And weren’t our models the cutest things EVER???
Although the forecast predicted rain showers, we ended up with a dry, overcast day. So we worked on finding the light even when its cloudy, and the helpful use of reflectors and off camera flash. I snagged a few of my favorites from the shoot to throw up here on the blog.
I’ll blog the senior images from Day 3 tomorrow. In the meantime I need to go eat some dinner.
Sunday September 27th, 2009
I’ve been putting off writing this post for the longest time. I think because I don’t know how to put words to what turned out to be an extremely emotional and spiritual experience for me, and if I’m going to be really honest I’ve been putting it off because I know I won’t be able to write it without crying. And then you all will think I’m crazy. The crazy cat lady. Well sit back and have a drink, because this is going to rival one of David’s blog posts in length.
Let’s start at the beginning. We live downtown and I first saw her one day in May when she ran down our driveway, past my office windows and across the street. She caught my attention because she looked just like our cat Pegasus. And come to think of it, our neighbor mentioned seeing a Pegasus look-alike skulking around the neighborhood. A few days later I saw her run by again. In that moment, a powerful, invisible force compelled me to fly out of my chair to the refrigerator, grab the lunch meat, and run out the front door. I spotted her in the alley across the street. She stopped thirty feet from me and we had a stare down.
I could see she was a stray, a scraggly bag of bones with large mattes in her fur. She was very afraid. Gently squatting down, I tossed bits of lunch meat to her, tossing each piece nearer to me until she was inching closer and closer. She ate it ravenously. My heart broke into a million pieces. I was suddenly devastated for this hungry, lonely creature. I’ve always loved animals and have an intense desire to rescue them from suffering. The sight of the Barnum & Bailey circus in town right now makes me want to stand outside and implore the children, “DON’T LET YOUR MOMMY TAKE YOU IN THERE!” Oh how I hate the kind of existence this provides for animals, but don’t get me started on that.
But back to my story, I held my breath as she crept within hands reach to get the food. Then she did the unthinkable. She rubbed her head against my hand as if to say thank you. Something about that moment took my breath away….knowing how afraid she was, but how desperate she was for help. I gave her more meat and sat in consternation deciding what to do. I didn’t want her to get away for fear I’d never catch her again. So in my haste, I attempted to pick her up in the idea that I would carry her home. Worst idea EVER! (Note to self, don’t be a freaking amateur and pick up feral animals!). She yowled and hissed and clawed me from head to toe to get away from me. And then she ran. She looked back at me in fear and she ran away as fast as her little legs would carry her.
I trudged home heartbroken, feeling like a complete failure. (I know, I’m so dramatic). But I couldn’t help feeling like I had earned her fragile trust and then proceeded to scare the crap out of her for life. It seemed like I’d never get the chance to help her now because she’d never come near a human again! So what did I do next? I put my head in my hands and started sobbing. I called David crying, and he probably thought I’d lost my marbles, crying about lunch meat and some stray cat that I had utterly betrayed and now everything was lost! I couldn’t explain why I was so upset, because I didn’t understand it myself. Something in me had just connected with a needy, hurting animal and I felt like I had blown it. I didn’t know what else to do so I begged God to please provide another chance and please, please, PLEASE let me help her somehow!
That night I laid in bed and listened to the sound of the pouring rain drumming on the roof. I wondered where she was. How she was staying dry. If she was hungry. I couldn’t sleep.
The next day I put a food and water dish outside the house. Later I walked by and spotted her out the window eating the food. Each day she came back, but if she ever saw me she took off running. The thing that struck me most was how sad it was that she lived in such fear. Constant fear of every loud noise, every neighborhood dog, every storm, every person. I wanted to show her how to be happy and find her a home. So David helped me construct an ingenious Looney Tunes trap. With a stick, we propped open the swinging porch door that led outside. We tied a long string to the stick that led through the porch and under the door into the house. Then we put the food in the porch hoping that she would sneak in to eat it, and seeing her through the glass door I could yank the string which would pull the stick out of the back door and trap her.
After a couple days she worked up the courage to venture in to get the food. I pulled the string, but she was so quick that she shot out the door before it closed. The second time she came I yanked the string and the door slammed ON her as she bolted out. Then I really felt like a jerk. She didn’t come back for a few days after that. Longingly I looked out the window hoping beyond hope to see her there. But she didn’t come. My heart sank lower each day. And weighing heavily on my heart was the fact that we were moving out of our house. The movers were coming the next morning, and my chance to help her would be forever gone. There were only a few hours left in the day, and I was so sad and that I couldn’t take it anymore. With resignation, I took out the stick, brought in the food and let Pegasus go out on the porch to bird watch. I dismally prayed, “Lord, please take care of that cat and watch over her. Send her help. I tried my best but now there’s nothing I can do.”
Feeling empty and depressed, I went back to editing in my office. About 5 minutes later I heard meowing. High pitched, sweet little meows filled with longing. It didn’t sound like Pegasus, so I got out of my chair and walked to the porch.
And there she was.
Sitting on the other side of the screen, trying with all of her might to communicate her intentions of friendship with our 15lb fluffy black kitty. Hurriedly, I set the trap up again. This time I did a trail of cheese all the way inside. I squatted down and waited, and soon enough she crept in to eat the cheese. I yanked the string and the door slammed shut. My heart was pounding. I was shaking from head to foot. I had trapped her. And on the last possible day.
The story of rehabilitating her is as long (or longer) than the story of trapping her. It involved teaching her to be pet, trimming the painful mattes out of her fur, taking her to the humane society, but bawling my head off that she might be euthanized, calling david again crying, bringing her right back home. She came with us to the new house and lived in the mudroom until we had her screened for disease. We thought she was possibly a kitten since she’s so small, but after examination he estimated she was 6-7 years old. I even paid to have her spayed in hopes it would make her more adoptable. After her surgery the vet called to tell me that her uterus was full of cysts, and if she had stayed on the street she would have died of cancer. (Apparently the Wenzel’s are a cancer fighting machine!) I tried to find her a home on Craig’s list, but that fell through. David didn’t really think we should keep her. I didn’t know what to do. We weren’t looking to have another cat, but I knew she was a part of my story. I knew what I had gone through to rescue her.
So in the meantime, she was the other kitty living in the mudroom. Throughout the day I would go sit on the floor and talk to her. She would purr and nervously try to sit on my lap. Then one day she crawled all the way into my arms and buried her face in the crook of my arm. Hiding. Purring. I realized this might be the first time in her life that she had ever experienced relationship. The first time she ever had a feeling of safety. The first time she knew what it meant to trust. And I had given that to her. The tears rolled down my face. She laid in my arms, and I cried and cried. I thought, “Isn’t that what we all want? A hiding place. Someone to trust. A place where nothing bad can happen to us because we are completely safe from harm?” I’m telling you! This cat is some kind of metaphor for my life!!
Through David’s diagnosis with cancer, other kitty worked her way out of the mudroom and into our home. Pegasus showed her how to be a normal cat. Following his example she started running to the kitchen for treats, vying for affection, and in time she even learned how to play with cat toys (a huge milestone for her considering her life previously consisted of pure survival). She’s come such a long way from the wild cat she once was. She runs to the door to see me home, she approaches strangers, she lets me touch her paws and belly and kiss her (she used to swipe at me for this). The only thing that gives away her identity as a street cat is that still hides under the furniture when it rains because she thinks she’s going to get wet. We’re working on that.
I love Other Kitty because she’s a redemption story. Because she was just a stray cat on the street who no one cared about and no one loved, but I saw her and I loved her. Some might say she had no worth, but she had endless worth to me. Even though she ran from me, I had compassion on her and I went out of my way to pursue her until I could bring her to safety.
And the reason I cry whenever I think about this story is because in my secret heart I understand that this is what Jesus did for me. And it helps me understand how He might feel about me. And I just don’t know what to do with that kind of love.
Friday September 25th, 2009
I was scared to post these because I was afraid I’d be encouraging wedding inquiries…so let me explain the sudden & strange appearance of wedding photos on my blog. =)
My friend called me 2 days before her 3 minute elopement ceremony in Millenium Park in Chicago and asked if there was any way I’d be willing to come down and do a few photos to remember the day. Although the idea of photographing a wedding makes me break into a cold sweat and start twitching, a few portraits of this beautiful couple was something I thought I could handle. It’s nice every once and a while to do something so entirely different than what you are used to. I’m excited to share a few of my favorite shots, especially because I love these two crazy kids!
I think the shot in the taxi is my favorite. I can feel that one all the way down to my toes.
Tuesday September 22nd, 2009
If you could sum me up in one photo, this would be it. Everything I love about life. The sun, the water, the color blue, and my friend’s dog Walter giving me a wet willy. Did I mention this was taken with the coolest iPhone app ever? ShakeItPhoto. I’m so addicted. It almost makes up for Polaroid’s devastating disappearance. Almost.
Sunday September 20th, 2009
I’m not going to lie. Life is pretty insane right now. Some days are just so rough I don’t know how I’m going to make it through them. I want to put on a face to the world that says I have it all together. But I do not have it all together. David does not have it all together. We do not have it all together.
I want you all to think nice things about me, but there are days when I cannot even think nice things about myself. All I can do is get up every day and give it my all. I can’t look at the big picture or I get overwhelmed. I just have to look at what I have to do that day, that hour, or maybe that minute.
When david and I first got married we were broke. We couldn’t rub two pennies together, but we were determined to chase our dreams and not to bow down to the cubicle gods. I remember the first week we were married we were so worried we wouldn’t be able to make rent at the end of the month that our initiation trip to the grocery store only yielded 10 frozen dinners on sale for $10. Yep, you did the math right. That’s a dollar a piece, and they tasted like it, too. How’s that for an anti-cancer diet? (I think I just heard our shiny new juicer shriek in terror). But sometimes we would get to feeling bad for ourselves because of our situation, so we would play this game where we would take turns saying something we were thankful for. (Spare me, I know, could we be any more Pollyanna?) But the truth is that it really worked to change our whole perspective and in no time we were feeling blessed instead of upset that we couldn’t afford jack crap.
Just four years into our marriage, life has given us a new set of challenges. Am I tempted to feel bad for myself sometimes? Most definitely. Do I occasionally wallow in my own misery? You betcha! (thank you, Sarah Palin!) But interlaced through the worry and confusion and sadness and fear that life brings to us all, I have found a small way to cope; listing in my head all of the things that I am truly thankful for. I open my eyes in the morning and start thanking God for a new day. I genuinely feel grateful for another chance to get up and live and breathe, and for all the beauty I see outside my window. It sounds so cliche, but the only way I can describe it is like a breath of fresh air on a dismal day. I don’t have a choice but to see the positive. Otherwise I will drown in the negative. And so I am thankful for my fuzzy black kitties and the love of my life in the next room feeling healthy. For the fact that we never go hungry and can pay the bills. For the fact that I have been forgiven and have witnessed so much beauty in my life-time. I really could go on and on. And on and on. The list is as long as the fact that I never had to have braces on my teeth and can say the 40 prepositions in 10 seconds, thanks to my 7th grade English teacher.
So feel your stress, feel your confusion, feel your fear, but through it all, tell me what you are thankful for today. =)
. 
Comments
Gorgeous kids and gorgeous images!
I love seeing ‘in action’ pictures! You look fabulous! And your pictures of the kids are awesome!
Amy, you are amazing for doing this. I know I got so much out of it. And, hey, now I am squealing like a middle schooler because I spy myself being all crouching photo, hidden Carrie on AMY WENZEL’S blog. I’m officially a rock star.
Many thanks again Amy for a great workshop! My head is still in recovery mode.
awesome images as usual!!
amy- i must know where you got that dress so i can rush to their website and purchase for myself. please?
Thank you, Thank you for an awesome workshop. Go relax, you deserve it!! Hugs.
Amy,
Great Pictures!!!
I had a great time and have already been putting all your expertise to work. Thank you so much for sharing a little piece of yourself with us. The whole weekend was invaluable.
I am really glad to hear that I am not the only one who miss placed my brain for a few days after the workshop.
Andrea
Such cute kids! Where did you get your leggings and adorable dress? How come you always look like you stepped off a runway, Amy? Too cute!
very nice photos… great models =)
Fantastic work, Amy… love love love.
It’s so fun to see these. Thanks for everything! It was such an awesome event and so nice to meet everyone!
Amy! Thank you so much for an incredible weekend. I feel that I’m only now (Friday) beginning to recover and caught up. So much great info, so little time. You are an amazingly talented, dynamic and wonderfully giving person. I’m so lucky to have spent a weekend with you and the other ladies at the workshop. What a treat to “hang” with people who really understand the thrill of the “perfect” shot! Hugs!! Liz
Amy! Thank you so much for an incredible weekend. I feel that I’m only now (Friday) beginning to recover and catch up. So much great info, so little time. You are an amazingly talented, dynamic and wonderfully giving person. I’m so lucky to have spent a weekend with you and the other ladies at the workshop. What a treat to “hang” with people who really understand the thrill of the “perfect” shot! Hugs!! Liz
AMY! I love these. I will definitely have to make sure I take your workshop next year.
Amy so cute. I need to figure out a way to take your workshop soon.
One question - where did you get that cute dress!?
Looks like I’m not the only person that wants to know where you got that cute dress
Lucky ladies to see you in action. I hope I can be one of the lucky ones next year. The lite shots are a nice change. Please tell us — where did you pick up the chic comfy green dress!
It is so fun to see you in action! What great shots too! I am dying to know where you got those green rain boots the models are wearing…I have been looking for something like that and would LOVE the tip! Thank you!