My name is Jacky Andrews, and I want to take your photo.
I grew up with the grass between my toes in the suburbs of Chicago. The swing in my backyard hung from a branch 30 feet up. My sister and I would push each other in humungous circles as we leaned back, gazing at the sky through the green maple leaves. Twelve years ago I adopted Los Angeles as my new home. Although I miss the thunderstorms of the midwest, I'm thoroughly convinced I was destined to live out 284 sunny days per year. Light and shadows are akin to poetry in my eyes. There's that old saying about stopping to smell the roses-- for me, this translates into quiet observation and creating art with it...
The way the golden light at the end of the day hits the rustling leaves of a magnolia tree.
The gentle touch of a mothers hand, cradling her child's cheek.
A shared giggle among siblings-- hands on their bellies, doubled over.
The silent, powerful stare of a woman, straight to my soul.
The wind in your hair, the twirl of a dress, the blur of two legs taking off.
The warmth of held hands.
I notice, observe, and crave more.
Just a note: Becoming a mama has been life-altering, exhausting, heart-warming, hard as hell, and incredible, which has led to a newfound desire and understanding of documenting the mother-child relationship. I am humbled to play this role (both mother and photographer) and am honored each time someone chooses me to document a part of their own unique, magical journey.