Sarah Sovereign 17/06/2023 Sarah Sovereign 17/06/2023

Sourcing Joy | Photo Project | Chilliwack Photographer

A frame from the “How We Self Care” series with Brenna Vink, 2019

I've been thinking a lot lately about how much I loved my "How We Self Care" series in 2019. Following people sharing stories around how they cared for themselves was beautiful and soothing and I loved every single moment of documenting these sweet lives living, even while recognizing that self care exists within a privileged space - it's not accessible to all. Between dealing with illness and then the pandemic, along with questions that were rising up for me around accessibility and the term "self care", this project kind of fell to the wayside.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the term "glimmers", it's kind of in the neurodivergent wheelhouse - instead of focusing on problems, focus on the glimmers - what shines, what invites, what works. Joy feels this way to me - I think, maybe especially as a neurodivergent person, that I look at joy in these layered ways. I feel joy when I look outside and see a storm rolling in, the wind picking up, the leaves on the trees swaying. I feel joy when I connect with other humans and make art with them. When I see a great wildflower patch. When I get into flow. When I can be cozy, piled up with blankets, watching terribly good scary movies on my couch. When I'm photographing something that just feels like MAGIC with every button click. The list goes on and on and on. In the same way that you can train your brain to look for glimmers, the same can be said for joy - the more you look for it, the more you find it, the more space you make for it - even when joy itself can be complex and sometimes challenging to source.

This new photo project focuses on that, on joy and how we find it. Sometimes we make it. Sometimes we engage with it. Sometimes it stumbles across us, flies through us, in a random moment of the day.

I'm looking to create a series of photo essays this July onwards around sourcing joy - what brings you joy? What feels joyful? These will be photographed at a go with the flow pace and work best around a process or activity - something that can be documented in a number of frames. Submit your idea through the website here. I'll respond to every submission, whether or not it's been chosen, within one week so check your junk mail! If you don't hear back from me reach out again as I won't have received it.

This project is open to all - LGBTQia2s+ welcome. If you’ve participated in How We Self Care, 24 Stories, or other photo projects you’re absolutely welcome to participate with this as well. This project is also very attuned to accessibility - please let me know how I can support you & assist with any potential barriers around participation.

The project is free to participate, you can support this and projects like it by becoming a patron.

Sarah Sovereign 18/01/2023 Sarah Sovereign 18/01/2023

GRIEF HOUSES | Narrative Photography Project

A photo of a house photo found in a thrift store

I’ve written and created a lot around grief - I always have. Sometimes I feel my gifts are grief: I carry the stories of my family, of the people who have passed, and I create vigils of art around their memories.

My first significant experience with loss was when I was 11 and my mom’s best friend passed away. She had been my babysitter growing up, I spent many, many days at her house, bugging her cat, having stand offs with her around finishing all the food on my plate (even when it was tuna with onions in it), and so many sun-filled days at the beach with her when our families would vacation together. I feel so lucky that decades later I can still remember her so clearly, so well - clear enough to hear her voice. I am almost the age now that she was when she passed. It’s a long time for the world to be without her. I wrote her a poem when I was 11, my tears staining the face of the doll she’d sewn me years ago - art was the way that I processed the enormity of something so big and so impossible. That pull to create art has been a gift.

Since then, I have experienced a significant amount of loss, and every single one is so different. Every one is sacredly held in the halls of my memory. Grief, like healing, is not linear. It ebbs and flows like rivers that flood and recede through the seasons. In my experience, in time, it gets easier: but the space that person left behind will always remain.

This project, “GRIEF HOUSES” is about that space. It’s about creating a portrait of the person who has passed by what they left behind. It aligns quite a bit to ideas I first explored in my thesis, an autoethnography about personal objects left behind and different losses: losses through death, and losses through dementia. It’s also a project that’s moving at it’s own pace: I imagine I’ll be creating and working with this theme over the next year and I’m being flexible both to the stories submitted and honouring my own energy as I unfold it.

If you’d like to participate in this project, I would so love to hear from you. You can submit through the Grief Houses submission form found here. I am especially looking for houses/spaces before they are packed up and sorted through, and while I would love to document a whole house, I’m also open to apartments, rooms (even in hospice), etc. All participants will need to sign a release to be a part of the project. If you’re unsure, please reach out anyways and we can see what’s possible.

If you want to support community projects like this, you can join my Patreon. Funds raised through Patreon go into projects like this and allow me to continue creating and keep participation barriers as flexible and open as possible.

One of my favourite photos: my grandparent’s sunlit living room after my Nan died, Aunt Dorothy sitting in Nan’s chair and my grandpa gently letting us all know we could leave anytime.

It’s a photo that’s full of grief, shifting rituals, a portrait of someone made up of their absence and what they’ve left behind.

I’ve been (slowly, so slowly) developing a project around houses & grief, and I’ve thought of this photo a lot as I do.

Sarah Sovereign 16/08/2019 Sarah Sovereign 16/08/2019

How We Self Care: the Condition of my Heart with Brenna Vink

How We Self Care: A Series of Photo Essays Exploring Individual Rituals of Self Care by Sarah Sovereign

33SarahSovereignPhotography_BrennaSelfCareStory (127).jpg

“Discovering our needs and the voices of our body and spirit and what they are asking for is a unique and individual journey - and I truly believe that recognizing and giving space to listen, explore and develop this is an act of self care in and of itself. ”

I’m so excited to present the third installment from an ongoing series of photo essays that explore individual rituals of self care.

About these Photo Essays: This project began when I started recognizing marketing around the concept of self care - especially marketing geared towards women - that seemed to summarize acts of self care as treats to be purchased, and/or overwhelming missives of things we “should” be doing to cope with expectations of busyness, the hustle, ingrained capitalism, the pressure to stay plugged in, perfect, et al. While I believe that every act of care we give to ourselves - big or small - is a triumph, I also believe that self care goes deeper. It doesn’t begin and end with self-soothing - self care is not always easy, or easily accessible to all. However, as this project has grown, I feel the need to reiterate - self care can be as simple as brushing your teeth. Eating a meal. There is no wrong way to give yourself care. But self care is more than what’s sold to us.

I believe self care can also involve us nurturing ourselves through the ecosystems in which we thrive, caring for ourselves via caring for the air we breathe into our lungs, the earth that supports us, the plants that nourish us - and so much more. Discovering our needs and the voices of our body and spirit and what they are asking for is a unique and individual journey - and I truly believe that recognizing and giving space to listen, explore and develop this is an act of self care in and of itself.

The concept of this project grew from wanting to tell stories from a unique female-identifying perspective about some of the individual ways in which we engage in self care, however, over time I began to realize that self care culture is often targeted specifically towards women. In addressing this, I opened the project up to all voices, all perspectives, all identifies. Self care is for everyone, and I invite all to share their stories.

In documenting these self care rituals, I engage with a self care ritual of my own: visual storytelling. I am often compelled to make & create projects, and being able to document processes has always brought me peace. The interesting thing to me about this project is that it engages my own desire for self care as well, but doesn’t involve purchasing a product, or a list of things I should be doing to keep up. Instead, it mingles with the parts of myself that will always be fascinated by rituals of soothing, nurturing, connection and creation - while documenting the very real and incredibly individual stories of how we define care.

This is an ongoing series, and will slowly be developing over the next year or two.

“My heart in sharing these stories is to also protect the process - to make sessions that are soothing, comforting, engaging, sacred, and to present stories that are authentic to the person living them.”

One thing that’s been very important to me in developing this project is being able to hear the stories from the subjects - and so the words to follow were written by Brenna Vink, a local doula and mom of 2. We shot the session inside her beautiful home, hanging out with her daughter and newborn son, and her and her husband’s small pack of dogs (and one slightly ornery turtle!) When the images were done, Brenna reached out to me and said, “I really feel like we’re missing the breadbaking aspect, it is such an essential part of my self care”, so I went out and we shot again (the images with the bread).

It struck me, in going back, how much I truly enjoy documenting these stories, and how much I want them to be reflective of the people and perspectives writing them. My heart in sharing these stories is to also protect the process - to make sessions that are soothing, comforting, engaging, sacred, and to present stories that are authentic to the person living them. Going back and shooting another part of the story resulted in more images I love, and doing so felt right - it didn’t feel like work, it felt like connection.

This session is probably one of the most structured ones I’ve done thus far, but still, Brenna would take the time for pause and for herself through out the shooting process - and I’ve presented the story this way as well, juxtaposing time spent parenting, and time spent in care & solitude.

The Condition of my Heart

By: Brenna Vink

TW: Traumatic Birth, Ectopic Pregnancy

Baking bread, garden flowers, + a tattoo that reads “Beloved”

As I reflect on the last two years, I am continually brought back to the condition of my heart. I have this deep desire to always be growing, I find it pointless for my life to stay in a season for too long without growth.

In June 2017, my husband and I welcomed our daughter into this world. I remember my pregnancy being hard and not enjoyable. Now that I look back on it, I realize it was the condition of my heart that was in the wrong place. I wasn’t prepared for motherhood, or to welcome a new life into this world that was fully my responsibility. The day she was born my greatest fears were realized and she was born lifeless and not breathing, followed by many days in the NICU. This was extremely traumatic for my husband and now that I look back on it, me as well. We spent the next year trying to mentally recover from her birth and trying to find a connection with our new family member. PTSD and PPD are no joke; I’ll never forget the feeling of not understanding why I didn’t love my baby, why this wasn’t the blissful experience everyone spoke about.

The following year, while celebrating our daughter’s first birthday, I began to feel ill and not myself. My first thought was that I was pregnant or miscarrying. The fear and excitement I had at seeing that positive pregnancy test filled my still healing heart with a determination I hadn’t felt before. When we found out the pregnancy wasn’t “valid” , but called an ectopic pregnancy, and that the doctors needed to terminate it immediately or else I’d lose my fallopian tube, it was a huge blow to that newly determined heart of mine. I once again was in a state of confusion and misunderstanding of just “why”? I was so heartbroken for the baby I “couldn’t have”, and in that I took that determined heart and decided I needed to heal. I said to myself, if I can’t have this baby, I’ll have another, and I’ll do the work to grow from my past in order to enjoy pregnancy and motherhood.

“It’s all a process, and I’m constantly falling and picking myself back up, but it’s a reminder that getting back up is where the growth is and where the joy begins. ”

“Making the time to do these simple activities became an integral part of caring for myself, and by extension, my family. Ultimately, a huge part of my self care started in the time I made for myself to engage with it. ”

September, I got another positive pregnancy test and this time it was real. I welcomed the uncomfortable stages of pregnancy and knew I had a timeline for growth and didn’t want to waste a moment. I spent time with my daughter; loving her and exploring with her. I took time to renew my relationship with God which I felt was the stem for lifelong growth for myself and my family. I took time for myself. Now, many people have that one thing that brings them joy or provides the self care they need to get through the week. I didn’t feel this way; I saw self care as a variety things. I saw it as my heart healing and growing; and there are so many things that bring me joy. Anything from baking dessert for my friends on Thursday nights, to learning how to make sourdough, to planting flowers in my garden with my daughter, to sitting out on my porch and watching the cars on the highway drive by, to taking a bath and reading my bible in the silence of the night. Having just one thing seemed like a chore or an obligation, but I’ve found it so healing to just have self care be a part of my day in whatever I’m doing, allowing it to bring joy and care to my heart.

Brenna and her daughter, getting ready to go into the garden.

Making the time to do these simple activities became an integral part of caring for myself, and by extension, my family. Ultimately, a huge part of my self care started in the time I made for myself to engage with it.

As my upcoming birth crept up, I gave myself space to feel the fears and anxieties of my past experiences, I didn’t let them control me, but I invited them and learnt from them. Then the day came, and the birth of my son was the most healing and powerful journey I’ve had yet. I am still in awe of the female body and what it can do if we release the fear and allow it to do what it’s been created to do. I am now in postpartum land but this time with a very free spirited, wild toddler that doesn’t give me much time for burnout. I am continually reminding myself to be kind to myself and remember to do the things that bring allow my best self to shine, for myself, and my family.

It’s all a process, and I’m constantly falling and picking myself back up, but it’s a reminder that getting back up is where the growth is and where the joy begins.

“1. mornings often start here, with a slice of toast and a strong coffee. you'll often hear Moana or Wiggles music playing in the background”

“2. i try to keep mornings quiet. i find i do better with the rest of my day if my mornings are slow. we read lots of "bookies" (as Lydia calls them), cuddles, tv & playing outside.”

“5. raising little humans is tough work. but the toughest part is not laughing at them when they throw themselves on the ground lol”

“6. snacks, laundry, & other household chores are just a regular part of the day”

“10. baking & making sourdough is one of my biggest self care acts. it's so rewarding to feel like i've done something for myself but also nourishes my family & friends”

“13. my bedroom is my "quiet space" it's where i read, cuddle with my kids/dog, reflect on my day, & drink coffee”"

“17. backyard adventures with my girl look like: gardening, picking berries/flowers, going down the slide, putting shoes on, & sitting on the porch”

“29.” Brenna and her family on the front porch.

“31. at the end of my day you'll often find me on my front porch. watering flowers, sitting out with a glass of wine admiring the mountains & reflecting on my day.”

How We Self Care is a small batch project happening over the next two years, sharing self care stories told from all perspectives. Each story is developed into a visual process through conversation, documented in photographs chosen by each participant, and explained in their own words. If you have a self care story to share, please consider sharing it with me - while I can’t shoot every story submitted (part of my own self care), I would so love to hear your perspective of the world. Comments, Questions, and Inquiries regarding the project are welcome!

Sarah Sovereign 23/06/2019 Sarah Sovereign 23/06/2019

How We Self Care: My Plants Take Care of Me with Alyssa Campbell

How We Self Care: A Series of Photo Essays Exploring Individual Rituals of Self Care from a Female-Identifying Perspective by Sarah Sovereign

“Discovering our needs and the voices of our body and spirit and what they are asking for is a unique and individual journey - and I truly believe that recognizing and giving space to listen, explore and develop this is an act of self care in and of itself. ”

I’m so excited to present the second installment from an ongoing series of photo essays that explore individual rituals of self care.

About these Photo Essays: This project began when I started recognizing marketing around the concept of self care - especially marketing geared towards women - that seemed to summarize acts of self care as treats to be purchased, and/or overwhelming missives of things we “should” be doing to cope with expectations of busyness, the hustle, ingrained capitalism, the pressure to stay plugged in, perfect, et al. While I believe that every act of care we give to ourselves - big or small - is a triumph, I also believe that self care goes deeper. It doesn’t begin and end with self-soothing - self care is not always easy, or easily accessible to all. For example, it can also involve us nurturing ourselves through the ecosystems in which we thrive, caring for ourselves via caring for the air we breathe into our lungs, the earth that supports us, the plants that nourish us - and so much more. Discovering our needs and the voices of our body and spirit and what they are asking for is a unique and individual journey - and I truly believe that recognizing and giving space to listen, explore and develop this is an act of self care in and of itself.

The concept of this project grew from wanting to tell stories from a unique female-identifying perspective about some of the individual ways in which we engage in self care.

This is an ongoing series, and will slowly be developing over the next year or two.

“it was a flurry of beautiful activity, a process of care & emotional intention. I documented it as it happened, and we didn’t stop often - in some ways, it was almost as if I wasn’t there. There was an inward focus that felt, to me, very therapeutic - this mindful intensity for each individual nurtured planting, from the root of every marigold, to the heart of every seed.”

One thing that’s been very important to me in developing this project is being able to hear the stories from the subjects - and so the words to follow were written by Alyssa Campbell, a local baker. For our shoot, on a really rainy May day, she brought all of her planters and plants, en masse, to Gwynne Vaughan Park. She brought so many that someone thought we were holding a plant sale. I watched as Alyssa poured so much into each planter - it was a flurry of beautiful activity, a process of care & emotional intention. I documented it as it happened, and we didn’t stop often - in some ways, it was almost as if I wasn’t there. There was an inward focus that felt, to me, very therapeutic - this mindful intensity for each individual nurtured planting, from the root of every marigold, to the heart of every seed.

My Plants Take Care of Me

By: Alyssa Campbell

“Plants, like our souls, mind, and body need care, positivity, sunlight, devotion, and nutrients. As I apply these things to my garden I am in turn also applying them to myself.”

I'm such a sentimental person and I save everything and this also gets channeled into gardening for me. Keeping the seeds over all the seasons brings me so much pride. I can say generations of marigolds have grown in my gardens

To be able to grow plants and vegetables to share with my loved ones is a really good feeling because I put so much time and love into my plants it's a really (or at least I feel) precious gift.

My history of gardening all began up the east side of Harrison Lake 22 km and 40 minutes outside of town where my family and I lived for almost 7 years. My first memory of anything to do with plants is planting a peony with my Nanan and the greenhouse my dad and Papa (his dad) built. My mom and Nanan worked in that greenhouse and it was pretty full of veggies, mostly tomatoes. I admit I never wanted to help out or be involved with it at the time ( I had quite the bad attitude as a child) but I know that those memories are what planted the seed of my love for gardening. (Pun definitely intended.) I am not a pro but I've been using the internet and winging it and loving it and that's all I need.

Four years ago, before I had my daughter, Chloe, I worked a lot. I have always been a little bit of a workaholic, so when I went on mat leave I found that I had way too much time on my hands. I struggled with postpartum depression, anxiety, and really lost what it looked like to take care of myself while trying to care for everyone else around me. I have learned that because I have these workaholic tendencies being productive, completing tasks, and achieving goals brings me peace.

Self-care to me is body, mind, and soul.

Our world is so fast paced: screens, phones, jobs, social media can all trigger anxiety and racing thoughts. Its so important to take time to slow down, calm your thoughts and care for your mind. So when I'm feeling down, anxious, or when my thoughts are overwhelming, instead of letting my anxieties whirl out of control I turn to my garden. Taking care of my garden is a reflection of taking care of myself.

Plants, like our souls, mind, and body need care, positivity, sunlight, devotion, and nutrients. As I apply these things to my garden I am in turn also applying them to myself.

Being outside in the sunshine improves mood and stimulates body's production of vitamin C, and sunlight and mood elevators are so important for people struggling with depression. When you are down it's hard to bring yourself up, but I've found that when I put myself into a natural atmosphere with sun, beauty, and nice garden smells, I feel better. I also completely believe in talking to plants. Outputting and surrounding yourself with positive affirmation aloud is not only good for the plant’s growth but it's good for one’s self-esteem - not to mention the hard labour it takes to tend to a fully thriving garden.

“I know that gardening makes me feel calm, productive, proud of my plants and myself, and I get excited like a child when I see my first sprouts. So, when I’m feeling anxious and my thoughts are overwhelming me, I go outside. I get my hands dirty, rally my thoughts, and busy my mind. My plants are my babies and knowing that they need me to flourish motivates me to get out there and take care of them.”

I know that gardening makes me feel calm, productive, proud of my plants and myself, and I get excited like a child when I see my first sprouts. So, when I'm feeling anxious and my thoughts are overwhelming me, I go outside. I get my hands dirty, rally my thoughts, and busy my mind. My plants are my babies and knowing that they need me to flourish motivates me to get out there and take care of them.

A garden can be a whole job in itself so I keep myself focused - complete tasks, water, feed, transplant, and get to the end result: a beautiful productive garden. It's exciting to see each new stage and it brings happiness to my heart.

“1. Time to get your hands dirty! Preparing the soil. I usually use a mix a miracle grow dirt and then a cheap $2 bag of top soil from Superstore or Walmart.”

“2. These particular planters have holes in them, so I line them with landscaping material to hold the dirt in.”

“4. 3rd generation marigold seeds. Featuring cat hair, dog hair, and petals from other flowers.”

“5. This is a almost whole dried marigold and you can see where the seeds come from under the little orange petals.”

“6. It's absolutely amazing and beautiful that this old, little dried up flower will be a new blooming flower in a few weeks.”

“7. Sprinkle marigold seeds and gently massage into top of soil with tips of fingers. The seeds like to be kept close to the surface and evenly moist.”

“12. Again, 3rd generation sunflower seeds. Planting an inch and a bit into the soil”

“14. Sunflowers need lots of sunlight and water”

How We Self Care is a small batch project happening over the next two years, sharing self care stories told from a female-identifying perspective. Each story is developed into a visual process through conversation, documented in photographs chosen by each participant, and explained in their own words. Comments, Questions, and Inquiries regarding the project are welcome!