Palm Beach

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During our move back home this November, we spent a month in South Florida. It is where Paul grew up and where we met when I’d moved across the country for a change of scenery in my early twenties (A foreshadowing of many changes of scenery and longings for exploration, I now see). We met working in a restaurant in Jupiter in my final year of design school. We married in a little chapel on Jupiter Island and left to see the world after I’d lived in Jupiter for about ten years and we had collaborated in creating two small, adorable boys.

I never loved living there. I always felt like I was on the outside looking in, a small town, Northwest girl, trying on a fancy pair of heels that didn’t quite fit. I’ve since come to love my ability to be an observer and can spend hours any any town from home to far far away, just wandering, watching and photographing. I’ve learned to be just a little bit invisible and it serves me well as I photograph the streets of almost anywhere. I now love to return if only to capture the moments I don’t completely understand, this time happily standing outside and collecting bits of inspiration along the way.

I spent a few dedicated days of our holiday, just walking the vias of Palm Beach, getting lost in day-dreams of mile high hedges and palm-lined streets and among the avocado trees in the neighborhood Paul’s grandmother lived in, in the neighboring West Palm Beach.

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