Adria and Paul Wedding, Teasers ;)
So many wonderful photos to share from this wedding, full blog post coming after spring break, in the meantime enjoy these previews :)
**I’ll be on vacation from March 26th till April 2nd **
category: Uncategorized
Published!!! My Photo featured in Chicago Social Brides :D
A couple of weeks ago I did a shoot for Loli jewely at the Belle Vie Bridal couture store in downtown Chicago. I’m so exited that the photo was used in a full page ad in the brand new issue of Chicago Social Brides!!! If you have a copy it’s on page 10, you can also click *here* to see the issue on line.
I’m never too busy for a great story :)
When I think of my mom, one of the first things that comes to mind is COFFEE. Not just your basic black American coffee. I think of the thick, heavy, rich, Turkish coffee. My mother’s coffee drinking ritual is quite specific. Every aspect; from the grinding of the beans, to measuring the water, to placing the brass copper pot on the stove and diligently watching over the pot. When I make that coffee for my mom, I always have to be careful not to let it boil over. You have to pull it off the stove just as it is rising. Even the pouring of the coffee from the copper pot into a fine china cup placed carefully on its saucer – it is all part of the ritual. When she finally takes that first sip, you can see the joy on her face as she slowly sips from the china cup holding the saucer in her hand. My favorite part is when she savors that that sip, she turns the cup over onto the saucer and lets the grounds settle. She always asks the same question, “Who is going to read my cup?” The grounds of the thick Turkish coffee settle into images. Legend has it that you can read the coffee grounds and see past – present – future. That question always makes me smile…
I got this e-mail a few months after I shot Michele and Jimmy’s wedding. I thought it was such wonderful and touching story, I just have to share. As a photographer I always hope to create meaningful images for my clients, but often I’m surprised at how the simple moments captured end up being some of the most meaningful to them.
Thanks so much for sharing this Michele, I think of you and your family often 
E-mail subject >>>> I know you are so busy but…
…I had to share this with you. I attached a story I wrote about a year ago. I took a year long story telling workshop (I don’t know if I ever mentioned that I was a librarian so I do some story telling stuff) Anyway, my assignment was to tell a personal story. I told the attached story orally and recently put it down as a written story.
I know you are so busy but, I just wanted you to see this so you could understand just how poignant your photograph is to me.
I am in new York with my mom and dad right now. They loved seeing the pictures.
Hope this email finds you well Hilda.
mjb
When I think of my mom, one of the first things that comes to mind is COFFEE. Not just your basic black American coffee. I think of the thick, heavy, rich, Turkish coffee. My mother’s coffee drinking ritual is quite specific. Every aspect; from the grinding of the beans, to measuring the water, to placing the brass copper pot on the stove and diligently watching over the pot. When I make that coffee for my mom, I always have to be careful not to let it boil over. You have to pull it off the stove just as it is rising. Even the pouring of the coffee from the copper pot into a fine china cup placed carefully on its saucer – it is all part of the ritual. When she finally takes that first sip, you can see the joy on her face as she slowly sips from the china cup holding the saucer in her hand. My favorite part is when she savors that that sip, she turns the cup over onto the saucer and lets the grounds settle. She always asks the same question, “Who is going to read my cup?” The grounds of the thick Turkish coffee settle into images. Legend has it that you can read the coffee grounds and see past – present – future. That question always makes me smile…
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“Who is going to read my cup?”
Inevitably, she would read her own cup. Once she saw the numbers 3 and 9 in the grounds…
“March has always been a good month for me.”
“Momma?” I asked her, “When did you come to America?”
“March … March 9th, 1962.” You could see the stories in her eyes.
“Were you scared to leave? “ I wondered aloud.
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I will never forget that Sunday Papi came to pick me up from Church. I walked outside of the church and every corner you could see, there was fire. No matter where you looked – the city was burning. The fires had been started over religion. It was then that we decided to leave Egypt. Whatever it took – we were ready to leave. What it took was years of waiting. In the end, we left what seemed on the surface to been a blessed life of moderate wealth and luxury. We each had good educations and good jobs. We left it all behind for the opportunity to come to America and a chance to give our children freedom.
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In 1962, Nasser had already nationalized so much of Egypt. The banks, the schools, corporations – all were nationalized and controlled by the Egyptian government. When we left, the government took all our money… everything. They gave us $117 of our own money to leave the country and the government kept the rest. They even tried to take my gold at the airport. We had to pay them to keep what already belonged to us. The coat that Papi was wearing, the government officials at the airport took it off and cut it open top make sure that he was not hiding any money or valuables inside as we left the country. After they found nothing, they gave the cut up coat back to him. Now, it was only good for the garbage. Three of us came half way across the world to start a new life with nothing but $117 dollars and some clothes in a suitcase. We arrived; our pockets were empty, but our hearts were filled with pride. We were so proud to have the opportunity to become citizens of the United States of America.
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When we arrived, we found a room in a transient hotel in Manhattan. The Kenmore Hotel at 23rd and Lexington. We went from having servants in our house to living in a transient hotel, but we never complained. We learned the language. We worked hard. Papi worked 3 jobs to put himself through school. His Egyptian education meant nothing in America. He chose New York University – he worked hard and seemed to never sleep.
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Every night I made macaroni with tomato sauce from a can. It was all that we could afford. The next morning, I would use the empty can of tomato sauce – rinsed out – as the cup for my coffee. We had no idea where life would take us. Papi worked all day and all night – I stayed home with Jean-Pierre. He was four when we first came to America. At first, I wanted to go to Switzerland. I thought of Jean Pierre, I did not want him to see the horrors of war like we had seen. We decided on America, because the family had managed to come here. This was where life was meant to take us – and life took us … through four children, six grandchildren, through tin cans to drink my coffee. After three months of living in the transient hotel, they declared us “ PERMANENT RESIDENTS” They returned some of the tax we had paid as hotel guests since we were now considered residents. I took that fifty dollars and bought our first set of dishes. Four plates, four glasses, four cups, four saucers, four sets of flatware. I was now able to drink my coffee properly.
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The day we became citizens of the United States, I was asked if I wanted to have both passports: Egypt and the United States. I adamantly said NO! I was now a citizen of the United States – I was an American. I would never look back. When I sing the national Anthem, I am so emotional. I cry. Forty-Eight years later, I am still filled with so much emotion.
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After the citizenship ceremony, Papi said, “Let’s go out. Let’s celebrate.” But I was so happy to go to my home and have coffee in my beautiful coffee cup – to drink my Turkish coffee out of my own coffee cup as an American citizen, what can I say, I was filled with such pride.
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Baby Jackson, 10 days old
Congrats to Liz and Justin on this beautiful and big (9.5) baby boy! Time flies…it seems like I just shot their wedding, and now they have a new little one. Here’s the link to see their wedding photos, definitely one of the most beautiful churches I’ve ever seen.
This first one is my favorite, doesn’t he seem much older than 10 days? He so cute and alert!
I love this one too, the concerned parents…I remember those days…I don’t miss them 
A little speech to let them know who’s boss.
Wrigley Field Chicago Wedding ~ Teasers
Just a few for now, but needless to say it was amazing!!!
I just got this e-mail from the Bride, which was really great
“Hilda!! I had an amazing day yesterday and I had to email you and say how absolutely fabulous you, your assistants, and Derek were for me. You made my day so special and worth every minute….even when I wasn’t happy about not getting all the pictures I wanted, ( Note from Hilda…Wrigley field put very strict limits on where we could and could not go for photos, so we basically had to nix 75% of the photo ideas we discussed) you lifted me up by telling me that you would capture even more beautiful ones within their boundaries. Thank you thank you thank you a million and one times over.
Love Always,
Katie”
Katie and Ray, enjoy your honeymoon!!!
In memory of my Dad
My Dad passed away a little over a month ago. Since it’s father’s day I’d like share of few photos of him. This is my Mom and Dad (Rozi and Peter) about 5 years ago. Any guesses where I red my red obsession?
This is the porch my Dad built, he was very handy and obviously loved to show off his ‘ornate’ style. He loved sitting there watching the flowers and the trees, my Mom would often bring lunch to him there.
The one below was taken earlier this year, inspired by the famous > American Gothic painting. <Link (the color is faded and yellow on purpose to match the painting)
This last photo was taken the last time I saw him out of the bed, about a week before he passed away. He was napping in the back yard, too weak to walk up the steps to the patio, so this was the next best thing…..having the chair as close as he could possibly can to his favorite place.
Happy father’s day Dad, I miss you.