09/25/2026
I keep thinking about the photographs I came across of my mama this year, six years after she died.
They weren't the posed ones or the selfies. They weren't everyone reluctantly looking at the camera or the ones that felt like someone just said "okay, smile!"
The ones I love most are simply her, being her.
Sitting somewhere.
Laughing unapologetically.
Leaning on the kitchen table.
Existing inside an ordinary day rocking her bandana.
Many of these were photos I had never seen before. Little pieces of her life I didn’t know had been captured, let alone printed.
And somehow, those photographs mean something different now.
They remind me that before she was my mother and even while she was my mother, she was a woman moving through the world. She had a face people loved. A laugh. A body that took up space in rooms. Ordinary mornings. Favorite places and hobbies. Seasons of her life that mattered even when nothing particularly remarkable was happening.
Losing her changed the way I understand photographs.
And being a mother has changed it even more throughout my 18 years in the industry ... not to mention my teen point & shoot days.
Mothers are so often the ones documenting everyone else. I know it because I've lived it. Our phones are full of our children growing up. Birthdays. Vacations. First days. Messy kitchens. Ordinary Tuesdays. The people we love. The sunsets and the good hair days.
And when we do appear, it’s so often a selfie, a quick photo someone took because we asked, or a picture we almost immediately decide we don’t like. But someday, the people who love us will not be looking at those photographs the way we do.
They will not be studying the parts of ourselves we criticized. They will just be looking for us. The way I look for my mama.
That is where this project began to take shape.
**I Was Here**
I want to photograph 50 mothers throughout the valley.
Not in a studio.
Not because you bought the right outfit.
Not because you lost the weight.
Not because life is perfectly put together.
Not because a photo was snuck in during a family session.
Not me convincing you to take at least one.
I want to photograph you where your life actually happens.
On your front porch.
On the steps of your home.
In your backyard.
At the kitchen table.
In the garden.
At a place in town that means something to you.
Actively engaging in your favorite things.
Just you, existing inside your own story.
These sessions are completely a gift, from me to you...and honestly from you to me.
They’ll be simple - about 20 minutes. Beforehand, we’ll talk a little. I’ll ask you a few questions about who you are, what this season of motherhood feels like, and the places or details that matter to you. From there, we’ll decide together what your session should feel like.
You’ll receive the final digital photographs.
There is no deadline on this project right now. I don’t want to rush through 50 women just to say I finished something.
I want to let it unfold.
One mother.
One story.
One little piece of evidence at a time.
That you lived here, loved here, and were a very present and visible part of your own journey.
That **you were here**
If you would like to be one of the 50 mothers, send me a message.
You can also nominate a mother you love or admire.
xo, Rebecca
Souls & Stories
