Meet Megume

Hello, lovely!

My name is Megume. I am so glad you are here.

To start things out, let’s address the elephant in the room, or in this case, my name as it is one you don’t hear everyday. Megumi, is a Japanese name; I come from a Japanese heritage—my father was born and raised in a small town south of Tokyo, Japan. When I was born, I was given the name Megumi; however, my Dad spelled it with an “e” at the end on my birth certificate. Even more unique, I look at it like an ode to my dual race. I passed that along to my son, and gave him a Japanese name as well.

I am a mother to two little ones walking in the duality of the beautiful expanse and uncharted territory that is motherhood and healing.

I am a storyteller by nature, a creative soul that gravitates toward meaning, intentionality, and purpose. I was the one in school who wrote a poem or song instead of writing an essay for assignments. I swear my mind thinks in pentameter.

Due to that innate pull mixed with my experiences for the past 30 years, I embarked on this path for my photography to not just be about a moment, but a little deeper. I want to be a photographer that turns the lens inward. Call it more documentary style, or how I like to think of it as conscious capturing—going beneath the outward appearances of your life to the person inside, the likes, wants, quirks, scars, dreams—take photos that celebrate your authentic self.

I am a sensitive soul, a listening ear, and always up for going to the movie theater.

I am a striving minimalist, an avid re-arranger, jeans and an oversized sweater combo creature, a putz-around-the-house-starting-too-many-projects-at-once professional, and a hopeful (one day!) Pacific Northwest beach dweller.

My hope as a photographer is to meet you in your own season of life, in your own rhythms, in your own rituals—in your own dance, in your own original story. I love for simultaneously freezing time and emotion all while creating room for future memories and feelings of love and nostalgia through photos.

I want to celebrate the things that make you and your family uniquely you; to meet you in your own environment—the environment that you have made and do life in. The kitchen where you have putting-the-dishes-away-dance-parties, the dinner table/floor/couch you share your days and meals at, the nursery rocking chair you do countless feedings in, the backyard where you hold your wiffle ball or croquet matches, the park down the street you ride your bikes to, the ice cream shop you are a regular at, the reading nook in your play space your little one frequents, or simply your comfy couch where all the magical-togetherness and snuggling happens. I want to magnify the love you share for yourself and for the ones you care so dearly about.

I can’t wait to hear your story and celebrate just how beautiful it is.

The (im)perfect iPhone 4 photo that started it all.

There I sat, wearing my pajamas, in my high-mileage rocking chair at 2:30pm in the afternoon. My son had just woken up from his nap, nursed, and then wanted to read some of his books. I set him on the floor and he crawled over next to his crib.

As I watched my almost-one-year-old-sitting there, with his rosy post-nap cheeks and wispy hair, making binky-sucking noises, sitting with impeccable posture, thumbing through the pages of his favorite book, I reached for my phone—but paused. I felt torn. I wanted to live in that moment; to be fully present, witnessing all those little details that made this moment a soon-to-be stored in my mama memory vault, but I also wanted to take the picture so I would have that moment forever. That feeling hit me hard.

How am I suppose to document the ever-changing growth of my little one all while trying to share in the moments with him?

That feeling has stuck with me. Especially now with having two little ones that aren’t so little anymore. The rate that they grow and change is a miracle—one that I am so grateful to have a front row seat to. But that question of being the VIP with the best seats in the house or being there to document it as a photographer has really made me think and sit in that struggle. I’m guessing you can relate whether it is with your kids or moments with your friends, loved ones, or even with yourself.

As I lived in that tension, I found my intentionality come to life which birthed this desire to help a mama out. Not only are we as momma’s trying to juggle so many plates all while riding a unicycle that’s making the world go round, we have this strange connection with time—it can be as if you lived three days before 10am or as quick as your food gets cold.

I want you to have both; the memories in your heart, and the memories in your hand.

So, that’s why I am here.

To meet you where you are at, documenting what time touches but cannot take…

…your love.