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Being in the family I am in, god knows it is inevitable – we make some pretty odd faces. Me, I am well know for having some of the most ridiculous faces out their, constantly with my mouth wide open and my eyes bulging out. But, my little cousins, while not having the face I have, do the normal let’s-stick-out-our-tongue face or the oh-no-I’m-caught face. Whatever the face, it runs in the family. 

First, Elizabeth she likes to stick out her tongue – a lot.




Behind Elizabeth is a rather solemn looking Phillip. He too has many faces. But this kid, he knows how to win you over with a smile. A frown one minute, but then, there is a huge smile, pearly whites gleaming at you. He’s going to be a heartbreaker one day.






Learning to dance, now that is something I could never do. To this day, I still sit on the sidelines and observe rather than getting up and making a fool of myself out on the dance floor. As a 5-year-old girl, I remember that dance classes and recitals where I would watch the other girls and try and do the dances they were doing, but five minutes later and a few steps off, I could never get the hang of it. The girls above are the girls I use to watch when I was five. 


Now, 16 years later, dance is still such a big part of their lives. Something they love to do to blow off some steam; something one hopes to do for the rest of her life. Opening her own studio, she’s taking everything she has learned throughout her life and teaching it to those who want to learn, don’t know how or simply cannot. 


Premiere Dance is located in downtown Lexington on 348 E. Main St.


So I recently attended a wedding. I went as an assistant to two amazing photographers. I learned a lot and saw a lot. The wedding was beautiful as all weddings should be. I was lucky enough to work with the groom. That was a memorable experience for me because he was an amazing guy and his friends were sweet too. But along with every wedding there is the cute kids in dresses and suits, a lot of liquor, an occasional harassing drunk, some hot guys, some weird girls and did I say liquor already…but to say the least it was fun. Oh and to top it all off i got a lovely present from a guy in a uniform on the way home. That just made my trip!

Like father like son.

This picture obviously did not turn out well because me and Emily took the same picture at the same time. The light reflecting on the faces of the bride’s parents makes it look like the gates of Heaven were opening up to them.

You may now kiss the bride. It would have been a better picture if it was a little lighter, but I am still learning so I will take what I can get. Plus, that is a good kiss!

Underage drinking…Cheers!

The first dance as newly weds and I don’t know about you but I see passion and love in her expression.

This is pretty much the same as the one above only here you see the love he has for her.

It seems to me that snow days bring out the artistic side in people. How, well it’s simple. Little kids raid the refrigerator of its contents, looking for carrots and any other necessary food items that they find intriguing. They also raid through their closets looking for ugly pieces of closes they do not wear anymore. Or, in worst case scenarios, they steal their siblings close in an act of sabotage and revenge. They do all these things simply to dress a two to three ball monument of snow. These monuments are art. These monuments are the infamous snowmen. Today I went out with the intention of taking pictures of people shoveling the snow from their driveways. Or, little kids playing in the snow. However, once I started driving around, I found that almost every house that i stopped in front of had a snowman. Instead of photographing something stunning, I photographed something juvenile. Despite my awesome talent for photographing snowman, I also did take some other pictures. I realized that even though kids are out of school, snow, in a sense, has a way of making the world seem abandoned. I went to a park down the street from my house, and it was deserted. Despite the cold weather, that park usually draws a rather large crowd. But not today. I was there for about an hour and I only passed one other person walking his dog.

I thought this was kind of fun looking. I am new to this whole picture taking hobby, so I have to play around with the camera to figure out what I am doing.

Benches that were once covered with children waiting to playing the lovely game of baseball are now deserted and covered with snow.

This is no special photograph, but i just thought it was neat. On cold days like this you have to use extra heats, which basically means we are just polluting the air more!

This isn’t the best picture obviously because it is kind of dark. But, I am still learning.

Anyways, I am still working on the pictures of the snowman, so hang tight for those.

A few weeks ago I took a rather intriguing trip to the cemetery with a friend of mine. He wanted to go so bad because he is convinced that one day, when he is rich, he will have his own private cemetery located on the outskirts of his overly priced property. Although, that is kind of illegal, but he says “I’ll be rich,” so it doesn’t matter. This particular cemetery is, in a sense, home to my extended family now. A majority of them are buried there, and have resided there for some time now. In a way, it was kind of like a trip down memory lane, although, half the people there I don’t really remember ever meeting. But back to the point, it had snowed the day before day and it was quite cold out, but it turned out to be a memorable experience.

This…well, this is my family. Powell is my mother’s side of the family, and those two names right there, well, those two ladies are my life. There is one other name on the tombstone, and it was my grandfathers. However, I never met him. Don’t get me wrong, I am not downgrading his importance; he was just never around to influence my life like those two were. There is one other spot, and that will go to the other important lady in my life: my mother. This tombstone right here will one day hold the names of those closest and dearest to my heart.

This particular tombstone caught my eye from the moment I saw it. This reminds me of a cathedral, you know the beautiful ones filled with stain glass windows. This is shear beauty, not only because of the stain glass, but because of the way the sun hits it. It’s perfect.

This is random and abandoned. I have no clue who this woman was; she has no meaning to me. I found it interesting because this bench was alone surrounded by trees that have been there since before I was born. I just like it because it is not your average tombstone. It is a unique tribute to someone that I knew nothing about.

Beauty, that is all I can say.

Every cemetery has a section devoted to those who risk their lives courageously in a battle to make this world a better place. This picture was appropriate considering that at the exact time I took it there was a soldier somewhere across the world risking his life in the fight against terrorism. They are special people. They are selfless people who are far better than me, and they deserve our respect and support.

This picture is perfect. A combination of wind and sunlight make the flag look radiant and alive. This is what they are fighting for.

As a kid I would accompany my grandma and her sister to the beauty shop. I would sit quietly and watch as these two women treated themselves to a lavish pampering. I don’t quite understand how a basic cut and style could equal something so lavish and calming. However, to these two women, the cut and style was enough to relax them for an eternity. Well, by eternity I mean until next week when they would return on the same day, at the same time, to receive the same glorious pampering they had just received the week before. Today I basked in the glory of my childhood memories and returned to the spot where I spent way too much time as a kid: the beauty shop.


This picture is the face of precious. As she sits under the dryer, it appears as if she is in her own world of thought.

It is not an average day in the beauty salon until a tabloid divulging all the juicy gossip is pulled out of a tall stack of magazines.

Her hair is not complete until a heavy layer of hair spray has been applied.

A 92-year-old woman, who is a regular customer at Fashionare Beauty Salon, sits as a stylist delicately works on her hair.

After an hour of being pampered she applies the final touch to her aged face, lipstick.