I love coffee. Sometimes people try to switch my coffee to decaf when I’m not looking. I can always tell the difference. I also like Pringles, but only the reduced fat kind because they crunch better when you bite into them and they don’t leave grease on your fingers. I’m…

About Me

As part of our quest to support women’s issues, Katana Photography is excited to announce our first ever Celebrating Survival contest!
Having any kind of cancer is frightening and confusing. In recognition of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Katana Photography is welcoming all survivors from all forms of cancer to participate…

Weekly Photo

When I was looking to buy my wedding invitations (back in April), I found a lot of designers on Etsy. After narrowing it down to a couple different designs/companies, I contacted both for their pricing list. One was pretty significantly more expensive–almost $2 per invitation more. Which I think all…

Weekly Style

When talking to people about photography, I hear one phrase over and over again: Kids and dogs are the hardest subjects to photograph.
I, personally, don’t have this problem with my clients…kids and dogs are among my favorite things to photograph. Maybe it’s because I like to have any excuse…

Weekly Puppies

Last week, Sean and I had our morning coffee on the balcony and watched as the Enterprise shuttle was pulled down the Hudson on a tug boat. It’s on its way to the Intrepid and I can’t wait to see it up close at the museum!

Weekly Coffee



This is Gracie…my family’s dog and my dog throughout most of college. She now lives with my parents because she would not have adjusted to city life very well. Of course, if it had come down to it, I would have taken her with me, but she bonded with my parents and loved their backyard–and as much as it broke my heart, I didn’t think it was fair to her to take that away. Sure, she would have adjusted to city life…but she wouldn’t have been nearly as happy as she is with my parents. Besides, they have the money to spoil her ROTTEN. This dog gets pig ears like EVERY DAY with them.

Back in college, I was living across the hall from Liza and Maddie, who back then had no fear of dogs. I have no idea what happened to this kid, but she’s terrified of them now! And she used to call Gracie “Wacie”. She’d come toddling into my apartment and wake me up at 7am…on a Saturday…Liza’s revenge to me for teaching her ‘nipple’ probably…and go, “Where’s Wacie? Where’s Wacie Aunt Cayeen?”  And when she found Gracie, she’d throw her arms around the dog’s neck as Gracie covered her face in slobbery kisses. They were totally buddies. Except for when Gracie would chew Maddie’s toys…on those days you would have thought the kid swallowed battery acid by the way she reacted. Like it was THE END OF THE WORLD BECAUSE OH MY GOD YOU GOT SLOBBER ON THE BARBIE DOLL. Never mind the fact that you shared an ice cream cone with the dog minutes ago because HOW WILL MALIBU BARBIE SURVIVE WITH SLOBBER IN HER HAIR.

In any case, Maddie still asks about Gracie and it seems like the only dog she thinks of fondly anymore.

When I was home visiting, I took some portraits of Gracie…because, let’s face it, she’s getting old. Her hip is bad and she can barely walk the stairs down to the yard anymore. Sometimes we have to carry her down there. And while this would under most circumstances cause most dogs to become cranky and tired-not my Gracie. She still plays with the youth and vigor she did when she was only a puppy. And it makes me smile.

Adelynn’s 2nd Christmas

Adelynns 2nd Christmas

Dear Adelynn,

I arrived really late on Friday night…close to midnight. Your mom allowed you to stay up WAY past your bedtime just so you could see me before going to sleep. You heard the front door open and immediately toddled over to see who it was entering. And you looked at me like, “Wait a minute. Don’t I know you?” Then you reached your chubby little arms out and hugged me. And I held you and smelled the baby sweat on your neck and was so glad to have you back in my arms again. So glad to have your hair tickling my face. As always, I tried to get you to say Aunt Colleen, but instead you sat there bleating a string of the most complicated consonants and vowels that could never be recreated by any modern recording device. It was an alien language that made perfect sense to you as indicated by your hand gestures and dramatic pauses. Then we played our screaming game where you scream and then I mimic your scream. And then I scream and you mimic mine. And this goes on and on until Yaya and your mommy are ready to pull their hair out.

You’re at an incredibly funny age where there is just no guessing what you’ll do next. One day you napped for an hour. The next day, for three. Some days you’ll drink from a sippy cup, other days you want liquid from a bottle. One day you’ll eat two whole hot dogs for lunch and the next day you’ll want nothing to do with food. One day you’ll like going to the park and the next day you act as if a drive to the park is like driving over a cliff to the depths of Hell. WE JUST NEVER KNOW. You want to be picked up, you want to be put down. You want that book, no, THAT book, NO THAT BOOK! GOD!! THAAAAAAAAAAT BOOK. I would imagine that in some ways having you as a daughter might be similar to what it would be like to be married to a mean drunk.

But you know what? It’s actually a lot of fun. No, really. We played together for hours. You used my body as your personal jungle gym, crawling all over my legs and torso. You also met Sean for the first time (that you can recall, at least). And I hate to admit this…but you liked him WAY more than you liked me. Because he has these things called “muscles”. And these so called “muscles” mean that he can lift you into the air and play airplane for way longer than Aunt Colleen’s flabby excuse for arms can.

And on Christmas Eve, you, Sean and I were all playing with some of your new toys and Sean got up to go to the kitchen. Without any prompting, you yelled, “SHE! SHE!” We all soon discovered that this was your rendition of “Sean.” And Adelynn—it was the cutest thing I’d ever heard. Under normal circumstances I would have been pissed that you were able to say his name before mine…but within an hour you were yelling out an odd rendition of my name as well. Something like “Caaeeen.” You are a kind ruler, for if you hadn’t said my name soon, there was the potential that SHE may have been in the doghouse.

The other week I was talking to your mother and she reported that after Sean and I left to come back to New York, you scooted all around the house yelling out, “Bye Caaeen! Bye She! Bye Caaeen! Bye She!” Over and over and over again.

This week while I was home, I memorized the curve of your smile. The dimples in your cheeks and forehead. The point at which the curls at the back of your head meet your neck. I am so thankful to have you here, to have your giggles echo through the house, to have the noise of your life in my ears, my beautiful niece, my little Addie.

Aunt Caaaeeen