McDreamy

I want to thank everyone for your kind comments and emails regarding my anniversary. If success is reflective by friendships, love and support, then I am truly successful. I’ll post my anniversary pictures in a couple of days, but I want to tell you about this cool little story.

Last year, my best friend Jennie was asked to be a presenter at the ESPY awards here in Los Angeles. She asked me to tag along for all the fun. In addition to receiving fabulous gift bags, free clothes, and staying in one of LA’s premiere hotels, I was able to walk down the red carpet with her and the stars. Every few steps Jennie was stopped by a reporter or fashion magazine for an interview, so I happily waited in the shadows until she was done. During this time I was able to literally rub shoulders with Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey, Peyton Manning, and other celebrities.

Before I get hate mail from a thousand girls, please know that I’m not an avid television watcher or girly girl. I’ve never been into TV drama like Sex in the City and Desperate Housewives, so when people encouraged me to watch Grey’s Anatomy, I did. I tried to like it, but it just did nothing for me. Because of this I’m not familiar with its plot, drama, or stars.

A couple days ago, I was emailed a picture and a few minutes later I received a myriad of phone calls from friends. They were squealing like a bunch of pre-pubescent girls at a Backstreet Boys concert. Their sounds closely resembled the livestock exhibit at the Orange County Fair.

Did you see it?
See what?
The picture of you and McDreamy?!?
Who?
Ohmygosh, please tell me you know who McDreamy is!!?
A new burger from McDonalds?

They just about killed me. When I opened the email, I was vaguely familiar with the gentleman in the foreground—did I run into him at the grocery store last week?—so when they told me he’s the star of watch Grey’s Anatomy, it all made sense.


So I guess you can say I was almost famous. Almost. I guess I can tell my future children that Patrick Dempsey and I were photographed together. Sure, he didn’t know of my existence, but, really, does it matter? ;)

The First Year

It’s really hard for me to believe that a year ago this morning, I was running along the Hawaiian shore, just off Diamond Head. At the end of my run, I stopped by the gazebo where I was to wed later that day. The sun was peeking over the ocean and the sky was streaked with orange, purple, and blue; like God dipped an oversized paintbrush on a mixed palette and streaked the sky just for me.

As luck would have it, my mom—an early riser—snuck up behind me. Her coffee cup sent miniature smoke signals as she leaned over to hug me. We both stared at each other and cried. Happy tears. We knew that the day would mark the first of many new changes in my life, but I doubt we fully comprehended the person I would become.

This past year has been the sweetest I can remember. Ever. And most of it has to do with my beautiful husband. He has been my coach, cheerleader, financial advisor, chef, housekeeper, chauffer, nurse, confidant, dream catcher, and best friend. When I cry, it’s his shoulder I rest upon. When I want to give up, it’s his back I ride the rest of the way. When I laugh, it’s his eyes I look into. When I’m angry, it’s his hands that rub away the venom. Without him, there’s no me.

Happy Anniversary, JD! You make me want to be a better person. You make me want to wake up in the morning and try again. You make me want to reach out and make a difference. You make me want to sprinkle the love we share on those around us. You make me want to be a better person. 143.


Picture by David Jay

Hector and Kelly

The hills of Mission Viejo looked amber against the azure sky. The sun shined proudly over the Coto de Caza Country Club and the day couldn’t have been more perfect for a wedding.

Kelly surrounded herself with the closest of family and friends as she donned her wedding dress. She nervously sipped on champagne through a straw—as to not disturb the gloss resting on her lips—and paced the room for the wedding to begin.

Hector stood proudly on the balcony overlooking Coto de Caza’s golf course and recounted his morning game. His brother made fun of him and said Hector was too nervous to hit his golf ball straight. Hector laughed and said he went more balls than usual.

It’s always beautiful to see two people commit themselves to each other, but as the sun set against the Orange County sky, seeing Hector and Kelly start a new phase in their lives made the purple and pink sky seem even prettier than normal.

Here are a few from Saturday…
The dress

This flower girl couldn't get enough of the camera ;)

The ceremony

I loved the light on this little girl during the ceremony

The bouquet

Hector and Kelly just after the ceremony


Inside this beautiful box was the most delicious chocolate ever!

I couldn't help but feel a bit of foreshadowing as the ring-bearer and flower girl danced together during the couple's First Dance :)

The bride's mom brought toys for her grandchildren to be entertained during the reception...somehow, I got ahold on one...and Kelly's rock...oops, I mean 'ring' ;)

Happily ever after...

The Friendly Ghost

Oh...yeah...I'm so cool. Like way cool.

There are times during a wedding or a photo shoot when I need to crouch or stand on my tippy-toes. Yup, all 5'5" of me needs every bit of help I can get. Yes, I'm only 5'5"...on a good day. Most people don't realize this because I never leave my house without heels. As in four-inch heels. All my pants are tailored to accomodate my artificial, Italian leg extensions--otherwise known as the 'pump'--so when I walk without shoes, I can give the appearance of a floating ghost. Just call me Casper.


But when I shoot, I need comfortable shoes, pratical shoes. And practicality usually means ugly...as in flat black shoes with a slight point. I sort of feel that if someone were to direct me to the Yellow Brick Road, I'd be able to represent the Lollipop Kids. Or legions of Oompa Lumpas...

Anyway, this past Friday, just before the bouquet toss, I grabbed a nearby chair to get a better angle of the bride and the lovely single ladies awaiting the flowers. Just as I leaned on my back leg, the chair folded from under me. In a split second, I saw a toothless smile and fractured arm in my foreseeable future. I waved my arms wildly--yeah, discreet I am not--and tried to keep my camera above my head. Luckily, my cat-like reflexes allowed me to land on my feet, but not without causing everyone to rush over. The wedding coordinator, Courtney Toney, was closest to me, so she tried offering a hand, but I had already landed. Like Apollo. That's how I landed.

Oh...yeah...I'm so cool. Like way cool.

Danny and Christina

Standing outside the Kellogg House, one could hear the shouting and laughter floating out of the third story windows. Christina and her 11 bridesmaids raised champagne glasses in honor of her wedding day. Most of the bridemaids have been her friend since junior high, so while Coldplay tunes seeped from the lime green iPod, they reminiscensed about old nicknames and fond memories they made.

Christina and Danny met in junior high, but it wasn’t until high school when they fell in love. They were assigned to be lab partners in a science class and their chemistry was unmistakeable. Seven years later, they were preparing for their wedding day.

White twinkling lights dressed the trees and spherical Chinese lanterns dangled across the night sky. White hydrangeas and callolilies adorned the tables, but the highlight of the reception was the dessert bar. In addition to a traditional wedding cake, an entire gazebo was filled with cupcakes, cookies, and other sweet confections.

As guests mingled in the oversized gazebo, I couldn’t help but notice how such a decedent table aptly reflected Danny and Christina’s relationship: sweet, satisfying, and fulfilling.

Here are a few from Friday…
Getting her makeup done


Christina's shoes


Bridesmaids getting ready


Preparing a toast...


Christina just before the ceremony


Danny and his boys


A little help from Jose Cuervo to calm Danny's nerves


The rings...I couldn't resist the temptation to utilize a doll house that was located in an adjacent room :)


Christina just finished practicing the way she was going to walk down the aisle...her friends cheered her on


Christina looking radiant as she recited her vows


Just after the wedding


The beginning of the rest of their lives...


**To see the shoot in its entirety, CLICK HERE**


**Special thanks to Courtney Toney with Joyful Weddings and Events for coordinating such a flawless wedding and Shyla for assisting me**

Baby Bear

I’m Hallmark’s dream client. When the company thinks of their target marketing audience, it thinks of me. It thinks of the girl who spends a good twenty minutes in the card aisle picking out the perfect birthday, thank you, or just because card. It’s has to be like Baby Bear’s bed: Juuuuuuust right.

Seeing how I have a love affair with stationary goods, I’m always on the look-out for new ways of sending the perfect card. Be it a potential client, a long-time acquaintance, or a vendor, I want to send something that shows I care about what I’m sending. When I spoke to Allison of ‘Ciao Tutti’ tailored stationary, I knew she would capture the feel I wanted to send.



I’m really happy with the final product and I think it’s a good reflection of my business. I know that in this age of cyber communication snail mail is an archaic form of delivery—somewhere just past cave writings and the Pony Express—but I’m trying to save its extinction. I love the feeling I get when I receive a hand-written letter in the mail, so if I can pass on the same warm-n-fuzziness, then I’m game.

Simple Photo Minute: Liana Lehman

I'm really stoked because while I was in Atlanta with Liana last month, I took my video camera along. Not only did we have a blast hanging out, we had so much fun shooting footage for the Simple Photo Minute podcast I wanted to put together. Well, Dane (the Oz behind the SPM curtain) has been gracious to air it, so if you'd like to watch the podcast, you can CLICK HERE. It may take a couple minutes to load, but it'll be worth it!

And big ups to TimCo for sending this picture of me and Liana at last week's PartnerCon...I love my friends! :)

Barstow

Barstow, California. There’s nothing too much there. It’s literally a sleepy town smack in the middle of Los Angeles and Las Vegas, tucked away in Death Valley. If my eyes could write what they see driving from one destination to the other, it would be as follows: Nothing…Nothing….Nothing…Barstow…Nothing…Nothing…Nothing. JD insists he can see moutain terrain and dusty beauty, but, really, it's just a lot of reddish clay.

No offense to its residents, but I’ve always disliked Barstow. I mean, it’s a good pit stop to get gas and refill my Perrier, but not too much else. I’ve been to Barstow many a time and the only good thing I can say about the city is this: It has one rockin’ McDonalds. I mean, I hate fast food. Hate it. Never eat fast food unless it’s my only option. In Barstow, fast food is the only option. So I eat at McDonalds (garden salad and Oreo McFlurry in case you’re wondering). But this isn’t just any McDonalds. No, my friends, this is a nicely perched Golden Arches INSIDE a train. Yes, as in locomotive. I can see it from the freeway and, while I try to scowl while driving off the freeway, the sign brings a smile to my face. I guess the idea of eating in a caboose can do that to me.

But other than the railroad/McFlurry euphoria, there’s not too much to Barstow.

Which brings me to today. As JD and I were walking off the tennis court this evening, we took a seat and passed a water bottle back and forth. We started talking about our anniversary and what JD had planned.

I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, Jaz.

This did not sound good. In fact, I’m pretty sure it meant only bad things. Sure, I realize our anniversary lands on a Thursday, and, sure, I realize JD isn’t going to plan a random trip to Paris, but this didn’t sound good. I came to discover that he landed an awesome account and in order to solidify the contract, a meeting will must be held on the 28th (i.e. our anniversary). JD apologized profusely, but I assured him it was fine. He suggested we drive to the meeting together. Afterward, we’d make a day of it.

Sure, sounds great…where’s the meeting, I asked. I secretly hoped he’d say Mission Viejo so he could drop me off at Burke Williams Day Spa for a pre-anniversary massage. But, no. He said the city that has become the bane of my existence: Barstow.

I suppose he saw the disappointment because he slung his arm around my neck and apologized again. It’s totally cool, I muttered under the weight of his embrace. He didn’t have to hear me say the words. I know JD knows I’d rather be in Barstow with him than with anyone else, anywhere else in the world.

I suppose this is what it means to love someone. Really love someone. To sacrifice of oneself and be totally and completely okay with it.

If you happen to be driving along the 15 freeway on the 28th, make sure and take a good look into the caboose. I’m sure you’ll see me and JD sharing a McFlurry…and loving every bite…together.

**The pictures were not taken by me...but you can thank Google Images for those lovely illustrations**

Alignment

Maybe I’ll get a free alignment.
Don’t be silly, JD said.
I’m not…I mean, wouldn’t that be great?
Yes, that would be great, but you’re being impractical, JD insisted.

As I made my way to the Chiropractic Sanctuary in Irvine, I dreamed of how lovely it would be to have my spine aligned and the knots that line my neck worked out. There’s nothing like laying on my stomach and feeling the pressure of knowing hands knead my back. My bones would then respond with a cacophony of cracks and muffled spinal sighs.

Snap out of it, I told myself. I was going to the Chiropractic Sanctuary to shoot, not for an alignment. Dr. Liz contacted and commissioned me to shoot her clinic because she’s having her website designed and needed images to complete the feel she wanted. That’s where I came in. I paced her clinic while she and her partner, Christine, work on patients with an ease and elite sense of professionalism. I was jealous. I wanted to be kneaded. To be cracked. I wanted my spine to sigh. Snap out of it, I reminded myself.

As I finished the shoot and began packing my camera away, she proposed what I thought sounded summer rain tip-toe on hot pavement: Jasmine, would you like to be aligned?

I’m sure I tried acting modest and unknowing, but I was just shy of sprinting into a room on pouncing on a chiropractic bed. So, I laid on my back and Dr. Liz, with her knowing hands, kneaded my back. And my bones responded with a cacophony of cracks and muffled spinal sighs.

Here are a few from the shoot…
The clinic also specializes in acupucture!


Dr. Liz looking quite dapper


A reflection Dr. Liz and Dr. Christine

The Write Up

This morning I got an email from Jenna where she congratulated me on my recent article. My first thought was, What article? She then went onto explain how she came across a link to the article from Mike Colon's blog and then it all made sense :)

I'm really happy to announce that the article I wrote about Mike Colon a couple months ago has been published in WedShooter.com and I'm SO happy to be a small part of this process. Writing the article was a lot of fun and I learned more than I could have imagined, so seeing the project come to fruition is mind-blowing. If you'd like to read the article, you can CLICK HERE.


I've said this before, but I want to thank Mike for this awesome opportunity and his mentorship and David Jay for introducing us. These guys have been the life life to my business and I'm blessed by them every day.

The Ferrer Family

Yesterday I had the pleasure of photographing the Ferrer family. Not only are they unusually wonderful, they are the most genuine people a person can meet. The shoot was bittersweet because the Ferrer's are moving to the midwest, and while this may seem like an exciting new move, the eldest son, AJ, is remaining in California to finish his senior year of high school. The family wanted to document their last days together, so I was honored to be the lucky photographer.
Here are a few from the shoot...

Anissa looking beautiful in the warm sunlight...


I think Aidan wants to be a police officer in the near future...


Quenching his playgroung thirst...


Anthony and Poppy...


Art looking at the beautiful women in his life...


Anissa breaks into dance at random moments, so here she is shaking her thing...


A candid moment of AJ...



The Ferrer's...

Serendipity

It came a couple weeks early. Eighteen days early to be exact. Sure, my one-year wedding anniversary to my best friend isn’t until the 28th, but it felt like we commemorated it last night.

As life sometimes serendipitously works, JD and I walked into to Pascucci to meet with David Jay and a group of photographers from his Brooks Weekend Seminar. Because of the large size of the group, everyone sat at different tables. Just then, JD and I were escorted to a small table for two.

Serendipity.

The table where we sat was the same table we sat at seven years ago on Valentine’s. Our first trip together to Santa Barbara. Never could I imagined back then how many twists and turns my life would have taken since then. But somehow—sitting in a smoky Italian restaurant seven years later—I couldn’t be happier.

JD and I drove up yesterday for a night-shoot with DJ and his students. And though DJ thanked us profusely for our assistance, it was us who felt blessed. I doubt many of DJ’s couples have him shoot their one-year anniversary, so I was especially stoked to work with him again…and the AMAZING group of photographers who accompanied him.

Here are a couple pictures from DJ’s blog:




JD and I spent the rest of the evening at the Andalucia. The lovely desk assistant upgraded our room, so our first experience at this hotel was phenomenal. If you’re in Santa Barbara soon, I’d recommend this hotel in a heartbeat…and the rooftop pool/bar has awesome views of State Street. Be sure to check it out, even if you’re not a hotel guest ;)

PartnerCon, in full detail

Tuesday Night:
Dozens of photographers mingled around the moodily lit lounge of the hotel where the Pictage Partner Conference was held and sipped on brightly colored drinks. Pink with a twist. Green with a maraschino cherry. Amber with a foamy layer. It seemed as if with every new arrival, a new round of hugs was in order and the customary It’s-been-too-long dialog exchanged.

Sometimes I think I’m a bad mingler. I really don’t know how to enter a conversation without causing a blip in the interaction dynamic. Sort of like that ‘How bout them Dodgers?’ feeling. And then there are the times when I don’t know how to politely walk away after the conversation has run it’s course. I do one of two embarrassing things: (1) I abruptly excuse myself at pause in the conversation; or (2) I start another conversation with a passerby who might have made eye contact. Like I said, I’m a bad mingler.

But the good thing about getting together with a solid group of friends is that I don’t have to worry about my mingling etiquette. Because mingling with friends isn’t mingling per say, it’s more like floating. Not like a graceful butterfly sort of float, but, rather, like a rubber duck making its way through a warm bath. I have to admit I liked bobbling from one friend to another…with a new round of hugs and the customary It’s-been-too-long dialog exchanged.

Wednesday:
I haven’t eaten a croissant since I was about 14 years old. I suppose I haven’t been able to rationalize licking the buttery flakes off the identification grooves of my fingers and fighting the urge to raid the local MetaboLife cart immediately afterward. But when I saw the array of soft croissants at the continental breakfast, I gave into my urge. Eleven years of buttery flakenessless down the drain. I suppose you can add Weakling to Poor Mingler on my list of bad attributes.

The day was packed tightly with phenomenal speakers and I sat in my chair like a Brawny paper towel, ready to soak up everything. The best part of going to photographic conferences is that I learn SO much, and the worst part of these conferences is that I learn SO much. It’s like Mike, DJ, Pepper, Liana and Jessica, Dane, and the Holritz’s shined a flood light on my inadequacies and now I’m responsible to raise the standard of my business. The best, and the worst. I can’t even begin to describe how awesome the seminars were, but they were greatly enhanced because the speakers were also my friends. I’m hoping knowledge and photographic talent is transferred by osmosis because there’s the possibility I’ll be a mix of Einstein and Ansel Adams.

At the end of the day, Pictage hosted a mixer. Pink with a twist. Green with a maraschino cherry. Amber with a foamy layer. As Amy and I chatted, I see a two men approach us from my periphery. As I turned my head, I realized Denis Reggie and Joe Buissink were standing next to us. oh.my.lord. I’m sure I blinked a few times because I was certain they were waiting to speak to someone BEHIND me, but, no. They weren’t.

Hi, I’m Denis, and this is my friend, Joe.
**blink, blink**
What I Felt Like Saying: Uh, yeah, you’re pretty much the forefathers of wedding photojournalism and if photographers had trading cards like baseball players do, I’d trade a whole pack AND the bubblegum stick for one of yours.
What I Said: Hi, my name is Jasmine.
**blink, blink**

The conversation was short—probably because I don’t know how to mingle—but they were very gracious and kind.

Later that evening, I joined a group of people for dinner and [b]ecker drove down to join in the festivities. Not many people can wear a shirt that reads “I [heart] Hot Mamas”, drink Diet Coke by the pitcher, and be the life of the party, but he has a gift.

Thursday
For a detailed description of what I ate for breakfast, please re-read Wednesday’s entry. What can I say, I’m weak.

I have a random memory. I don’t remember things I should, but often can recite the most random facts at the drop of a dime. There were a lot of great seminars on Thursday, but the thing I walked away remembering was this word: Luddite. Basically a Luddite is someone who doesn’t embrace technological advancement, named in honor of Mr. Ludd who led a boycott of technology during the 18th century. Yes, another random fact that I thoroughly enjoyed and now will never forget. Thank you, Jeff Jochum.

I was encouraged and really motivated throughout the past few days and I can’t wait to start implementing some of the things I learned. Here are a few pictures of some really amazing people…


DJ...showing off the most amazing picture...ever.

Jess and me

Liana and me

Crystal and me

Shyla and Justin

MIA

I seriously laughed out loud when I read the following email from one of my future brides:
HOW BOUT YOU UPDATE YOUR SITE [blog] PLEASE!!!!! I LIKE TAKING A LITTLE BREAK AND CATCHING UP...YOU'RE THROWING ME OFF!!!

Yes, I know I've slacked...but for good reason! I just got back from Picatge's Partner Conference.


I spent the last three days in Los Angeles meeting new photographers and learning so much. I was so blessed to go and assist Mike during his seminar and I'm always in awe of how he presents his knowledge so well. My own wedding photographer--DJ--also presented and he pretty much rocked the mic like...well, like a DJ.

I'll posting about the past few days in detail tomorrow and include pictures, but I just wanted to give a shout out to all the amazing people at Pictage who hosted a phenomenal event and proved the company truly cares about its photographers.

Happy Labor Day!

On this Labor Day, I'm SO happy to announce my new and improved business card! It seems like I waited forever for something to fit, so when I finally decided on a logo, it was a move in the right direction. I also think it's appropriate to make this announcement on Labor Day because, well, these cards will make me more laborious ;)


Last Saturday morning, I picked up the cards from my printer and I immediately called JD with the good news. Later that day, on our way to a party I was going to shoot, he detoured by South Coast Plaza. Confused, I insisted his shopping couldn't be so important to make me late, but he said he really needed new undershirts. Undershirts. As in white t-shirts worn UNDER the actual shirt.

You're kidding, right?
Com'on, JD said as he turned into the Nordstrom parking lot, I'll only be five minutes.

We entered South Coast from the bridge-side entrance, so when JD dragged me into the Louis Vuitton store, I was thoroughly confused.

What are we doing here, I whispered.
Well, now that you have business cards, you need something to put them in, don't you?


Seriously, if I was half as thoughtful as he, I'd be canonized. He's well on his way to sainthood, but in the meantime, while he's on Earth with me, he makes a phenomenal business partner.

Failing Forward

As many of my friends can attest, I was probably the most risk adverse person you could ever meet.

Don’t do that, you might hurt yourself!
Do you know what’s in that hot dog?
I’ll save this for later.
I’ll buy extra in case it’s no longer available.

It’s just awful. I could point a nasty finger toward my past and blame my economically challenged childhood, but I think it’s more than that. I was the type of kid who ironed my money. Yes, ironed, as in plugging in a heated device and steaming my Washingtons until they were so flat they were almost invisible if turned sideways. My parents could never afford giving an allowance, so when I made money from my lemonade stand or from mowing a neighbor’s lawn, the ironed bills would remain hidden in a Band-Aid tin box somewhere deep in my closet. Only when a special event came around—like my mom’s birthday or my first trip to Disneyland—would my crisp bills resurface.

There’s a small part of me that wishes I could, say, go to Las Vegas and bet frivolously, but that’s risky. Me and my friend Risk are like oil and balsamic vinegar…we just don’t mix. It wasn’t until I was in college when I realized that my aversion to risk—and my intended hedging against it—was due to my fear of failure and rejection. If I knew I couldn’t be the best, I wouldn’t take part in an event or activity. How sad. For me, it was never about the journey, but, rather, about the destination. Getting there, winning, being the best, staying on top.

As I’ve started my business, I realize that I’ve changed my entire perspective. Unbeknownst to me, I’ve become the person I envied. A person who can just leave law school, pick up a camera, and shoot. Never in my life would I have imagined making such a risky leap, but I have…or should I say am? On my way home from Santa Barbara, a friend let me borrow Failing Forward by John C. Maxwell on CD and I finished the set yesterday. I could go on and talk about it, but suffice to know it was a NY Times Best Seller and received rave reviews. It focuses on viewing failure as a stepping stone to greater things in the future and not looking at mistakes as an end-all.

After hearing Maxwell’s perspective, I’m so much more open to failing. I mean, I don’t want to fail, but when it happens—because it definitely will—I view it as a chance to define who I am. And while me and my friend Risk are still mixing like oil and balsamic vinegar, we now have a friend called Failure. And Failure is a lot like freshly-baked ciabatta bread. When dipped between the both of us, it makes for a delicious appetizer to whet my business palette.