A fair bit of time before this little business of mine existed, the name & the story behind The Waldron Photograph Co. were being formed. See, Waldron is a little town in Arkansas where my mom & grandma were born, and after hearing story upon story about it, it had become near and dear to me simply by association. For quite some time I knew the name Waldron - and it's inherent story - would play a role in the things that I did; and thus, when I rebranded and refined my work early last year, The Waldron Photograph Co. was the result.
Before this past week, I had never seen Waldron in person. I had seen countless a picture and heard many a story, but had never made the trek to central Arkansas to experience it first hand. After all, Waldron isn't exactly a tourist destination; just barely three thousand folks call it home and it's way off the beaten path. But to me, it obviously holds certain meaning (and, I adore Arkansas in general - the geography, the unassuming quaintness, and the unique charisma it manages to keep.)
So, I drove to Waldron. It was a solo trip, on which I make it a point to embark once a year or so. It's about a seven hour drive through some of the most underrated terrain in the country, which, by nature, translates into more like a twelve hour drive for a person like me (read: constant stopping & picture making.)
When I finally arrived, I was a bit taken aback by the immediate value this place possessed to me, though unseen until now. I followed a red dirt road to the place my grandma grew up - a township called Jones Creek, I sat down and did some research on my heritage, and I met some locals who gave me quite the history lesson. More than anything, I was grateful... overwhelmingly (and somewhat unexpectedly) so. Grateful for those that came before me. Grateful for THEIR stories. Grateful for my own story. And grateful for the gift of places & exploration.
Two-thousand-thirteen. A year I had resolved to make simpler than the one which preceded it. A year that included travels all over; to places in which I had spent significant time, and to places upon which I had yet lay eyes (while most of which, as pictures prove, were at least fairly mountainous). A year that included twenty-six weddings, one of which was my own (you'll see Lizzie a handful of times below) -- and similarly, a year during which the two of us decided that we ought to buy the littlest, most snaggle-toothed puppy we could find. A year of new ventures, particularly in the form of a small shop near our home which we'll endearingly call The Bonfire. And a year that included more free space... both in pictures and in time.
In reflection of this past great year, I've chosen not to highlight my favorite pictures of weddings, but rather my favorite pictures of times away - from Texas to the Dakotas, from Washington to Maine. Thirty pictures that hold a place of story to me. Thirty pictures that make me grateful for time & space & people & freedom to roam this beautiful, mysterious earth God has placed us on.
