06/17/2026
Some people are delightfully different.
That's Isabella.
Or Izzy, as everyone calls her.
She doesn't fit neatly into a box, and I mean that in the very best way possible. She loves her pink hair, her sparkly Crocs, and she's completely comfortable being herself.
Personally, I've always liked people like that. Maybe because I've never fit neatly into a box either.
Izzy has the sweetest personality. She volunteers at a daycare, and the children absolutely adore her. She has a special way with kids because she still carries a sense of childlike wonder and joy herself.
During her consultation, both her and her mother Sheena told me a couple of stories that really stayed with me.
One was about a little boy named Levi.
Levi is autistic and mostly communicates without words. Like many children, people sometimes underestimated how much he understood.
The daycare children would sing the alphabet song together, but Levi never joined in.
Izzy decided to try something different.
Instead of singing it, she softly hummed the tune to him.
To everyone's surprise, Levi hummed it right back.
He understood.
He simply needed someone patient enough to find his language.
Another story involved Levi's favourite dinosaur toy.
Whenever he felt overwhelmed, he would place the dinosaur in front of him and spin it. It helped him regulate and feel calm.
One day at daycare, Izzy was having a difficult moment herself. Another child was loudly shouting through a toy megaphone, and she needed a break.
She went to the quiet corner, a space where children and staff could have a moment of peace.
Levi noticed.
He walked over, placed his dinosaur in front of her, and smiled.
It was his way of saying, this helps me when I'm overwhelmed, maybe it will help you too.
What a beautiful act of kindness.
Izzy had taken the time to understand Levi, and in return, Levi understood her too.
Her mother told me that Levi rarely makes eye contact with people.
Yet he will sit on Izzy's lap and look directly into her eyes.
After spending time with her, that doesn't surprise me.
Even in her fiercest photographs, there's a kindness in her eyes that's impossible to miss.
That ability to connect with children, especially children who experience the world differently, is a remarkable gift.
As for her photo shoot, she was absolutely thrilled.
Every time I showed her a photograph she loved, she'd pull up her shoulders, grin from ear to ear, and flap her hands with excitement.
It was adorable.
The best part came later.
Her mother told me she cried after seeing the finished portraits.
Not sad tears.
Happy tears.
She said she had never imagined herself looking that way.
And that's what it's all about.
Everyone has gifts.
Some are obvious.
Some take a little longer to discover.
At the studio, we love uncovering those gifts. We ask questions. We listen to parents, grandparents, friends, and sometimes complete strangers who know you best.
Because anybody can take a picture of someone.
A portrait is about seeing who they really are.
That's what we strive to do every day.
And Isabella?
She made that job pretty easy.
(Side note, I have known her mom Sheena and her nan Carol nearly my whole life. Carol worked for my father in the insurance business for years and Sheena was her youngest. This meant so much to me, and I was emotional writing this
