Smile just a little...

Did I ever tell you the story about my mom trying to get me to sit for a portrait with her? She's smiling like an angel of the Lord and I won't show my whole face and look like someone was forcing me to drink a green smoothie at the age of three in 1971, no doubt. We lost that pic in a fire almost twenty years ago. I remember every thing about that photo. Her Marge Simpson hair, my huge pouty cheeks and my page boy haircut.. What I wouldn't give to have that photo back..These littles in this family photo remind me of that pic. sometimes it's not about the cheesy smile. Well, most of the time for me, it's not.

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Everyone is Creative

What is your deeply buried gift? Don’t think it’s not down there. It is. Something is going to help it rise to the surface. When I was a child, I dreamt of going to Hollywood and making movies. I remember specifically knowing what it must feel like to do that very thing, although I was in the middle of a rural ranchette in Texas. I carried around a video recorder the size of carry on luggage, which attached to a giant news station style camera, and I made movies. I can think of three or four different films that were lost forever in the 80’s. I remember shooting portraits of my cats sitting alongside cowboy hats, with a little 110 camera, and writing story after story and reading book after book. Talking into an old recorder with an English accent, singing at the top of my lungs as I played the piano. These are the snapshots of my childhood forty years ago. When I graduated from the theatre department at Baylor University, I was not ready emotionally and did...

The Kingdom of Girls

Once upon a time there lived three girls. All were beautiful and all possessed different gifts. The Kingdom was all aglow with laughter and giggles for many years until one day the King stepped into the cavernous hall and heard nothing. "Wife!" he yelled."What has happened? Did everyone go into the village?" "Oh Honey" said the Queen stepping outside of her chamber wearing a bathrobe and her hair on top of her head. "They're not gone. They're teenagers." "What in God's name is a teenager?" shouted the King. "Oh dear." The queen remarked turning up her chalice of wine. "What isn't a teenager?"

They Call me MOM

This is the goal... isn't it? for our kids to think this right up here. This beautiful phrase. Because God knows we're all broken, and even though sometimes we feel like Roseanne Conner, we are ALL as cool as Lorelai Gilmore, as gorgeous as Tami Taylor, and my GOD as fierce as Kristina Braverman so DO NOT sell yourself short ladies. Just take one day at a time.

Robin Dodd Photography

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