Spark ! Studio: Illuminate

I was 20 weeks pregnant when we lost her. Our sweet, much loved, much wanted first child. Our daughter. My world came crashing down around me the moment she was gone. Photography was the healing outlet my heart needed as I learned to live a life without her. And now I’m bringing that same gift of a creative outlet through heartbreak to you.

Six months after Bella was stillborn I flew to Tampa, FL to attend a workshop to learn the ins and outs of running a successful portrait photography business. As we introduced ourselves that first day, I was the mood crasher. As most of the women in that room shared how their living children were the inspiration behind wanting to photograph I got to tell that room full of family photography business hopefuls “Hello, my name is Beryl, I want to learn photography, and I am here because my baby died.” I went on to tell them about our angel Bella, my inspiration. (grab a cup of coffee or tea and I’ll gladly share the story of our Bella with you here).

Amazingly, as that weekend of learning began to unfold two more of the 12 women at our photography seminar approached me. Told me how moved they were by Bella’s story. How they too experienced their own losses. How they had never told anyone. How no one wanted to listen.

Most women keep it to themselves. Most women suffer in silence. Most women don’t know where to find healing. And this isn’t just true for miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss. Grief is a lonely road. One that is usually suffered in private as you try to navigate a world that continue to move on without your loved one.

Here you no longer need to go the road of grief and loss alone.

This community is here to create a legacy out of your loss and to find healing and hope from behind the lens of a camera.

After losing Bella, I scoured the internet looking for bereavement resources that spoke to me. I searched for a community that could relate to my pain. I needed someone to talk to who wouldn’t mind if I needed to bring up my baby every single day. I longed for an audience who would relate to the imagery I was creating with my camera.

I came up with nothing.

I learned photography on my own, as I grieved, and slowly grew from amateur photographer to professional. 14 years later and Bella’s legacy lives on through an e-course that has helped thousands of women process and grow from their own grief and loss journey.

Illuminate, is that class. A completely FREE 4-week self-paced online program that using a camera to light the way to photographic healing.

Dedicated to my daughter Bella, my muse and guide, I believe that every woman deserves the opportunity to seek a creative means to sharing their story of loss, heartache, sadness, and hope.

During your FREE Illuminate experience you’ll have the opportunity to:

The period of time right after our only son at the time died was heavy with longing, isolation and darkness. All we could see were the places and spaces where he was missing and should be. Expression of grief through photography was movement. The only movement that we had at the time when everything else stood still. ~Laura

• • Learn how to use your camera (any camera) to capture beautiful images that speak to you and your very personal journey through grief.

• • Feel the compassion of a trusted guide and mentor who knows exactly what it’s like to lose a loved one.

• • Manage your grief in a creative way and grow because of it.

• • Focus attention on the people and places that still bring you bits of joy through the pain.

• • Create a body of work that serves as a testament to your loved one.

The period of time right after our only son at the time died was heavy with longing, isolation and darkness. All we could see were the places and spaces where he was missing and should be. Expression of grief through photography was movement. The only movement that we had at the time when everything else stood still. ~Laura

 

After losing my daughter at 2 days old, my postpartum body was still healing and I unfortunately had many well-meaning strangers ask me if I was pregnant- which was like a knife through the heart and a blow to my confidence in those early days of grief.  I took this image as a way to remember that my body had done an incredibly beautiful thing and that every line, stretch mark, and scar told my daughter’s story and in that way, I would carry her with me forever. ~Kristin

This photo shows Nara’s hat, a bit big for her tiny, perfect head. I like to carry her hat in my purse when we take special family outings to include her. In this photo, I am holding her hat above my favorite tree in our yard and letting the sun rays shine through her hat and down on me. Filtering her love for me down from heaven. This photo reminds me that joy and grief can exist at the same time. ~Cynthia