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augustabelle augustabelle

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Belle  Photographer / Storyteller Raising three kids in the East Village Embracing the chaos, finding the magic New Yorker always & forever 💕


You will be lost, and unlost, over and over again. Relax love. You were meant to be this glorious. Epic. Story.

🎂 #Two.
And so much to celebrate: the way you wake up with a smile every single morning and for a silent minute or two before rising simply lay there, grinning at the ceiling like you’ve been let in on the very best secret ever. I always wonder what you’re smiling about. Maybe one day you’ll tell me. The way you hold your breath when you hug, burrowing your tiny face into the crook of my neck with all the might you can muster, only coming up for air when you’re certain the message has been received. I like to think that your overly affectionate late Argentinian grandparents would have been proud of that move. The way you drop everything and dance with your whole body to even the faintest passing trail of music- that rhythmic swagger and hippy sway so uniquely and endearingly yours. The way you walk, everyday and everywhere, as if you’ve got somewhere to go... somewhere bright and loud and full of the most brilliant kinds of things and people. And perhaps you do. Your voice. Your heart. All of it. All of you. Happy birthday my Sparrow.

Love stories, I realized, are what I'm always really shooting, in one way or another. Now booking NYC fall Mini-Sessions if you'd like to grab a limited spot 🌿

A rare sighting of baby Levon in his natural habitat.

Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. #RainerMariaRilke

I stepped into the summer with absolutely no plans save for putting my phone away and bumming around the sweaty downtown streets, free of schedules, free to soak up the balmy energy of the village, and yet somehow wrapped the season up with a repertoire of adventures fit for a novel. It was the summer where a single phone call and subsequent delayed flight ignited a chain of events taking me from coast to coast then back again, shooting projects, finding myself in the midst of some crazy story without quite being able to pinpoint exactly how or why I got there... driving with my sister up the winding California coast on nameless roads- windows all the way down, stereo all the way up... singing my baby to sleep in a tent deep in the forest before falling asleep myself to the pounding waves breaking just beyond the trees... meditating at sunrise on salty cliffs... singing wildly in an old church while Patti Smith strummed her acoustic guitar from a tiny wooden stage, knowing that my voice was off-key, not caring in the slightest.. sitting at faded diner counters at 2am in foreign cities, sipping black coffee and having deeply satisfying political conversation with the stranger next to me, realizing that the kind of people who frequent diners at 2am are pretty much the same no matter what city you're in, and that they're often my kind of people... It was the summer that lived up to dreams i didn't even know I had. The summer of serendipity.

She wore a pink gown and he wore silver shoes. The wildly overgrown garden was draped in sheets of white muslin. In the middle of her vows the sky crackled and opened up, drenching the guests, the flower bushes, the whole city. But instead of letting it silence her, she spoke louder, declaring her love over the storm. And when at last it stopped, the guests, all standing now huddled between puddles, cheered uproariously. The couple kissed. A huge rainbow appeared in the sky. And all was perfect.

"There's a part of me that thinks perhaps we go on existing in a place even after we've left it.” -Colum McCann

Little sisters make the best muses.

The one day of year when for a fantastical passing moment, the horizon outside matches that of my dreams. #fourthofjuly

I was recently asked what career advice I would give my younger self, and after much deliberation I finally settled on an answer: ladies and gentlemen, size doesn't matter. If I had a nickel for every time I've rolled up to a shoot with a couple of tiny, well-loved cameras in my bag and utterly confused an industry which oddly sizes everyone up by the flashiness of their gear, well I'd probably be that annoying weirdo in the city who perpetually pays for everything with piles of nickels.

Don't get me wrong, I love my DSLR, but it rarely comes out of the bag these days. There's just something about the tangible experience of clicking dials and rings into place that speaks to my creative soul in a way that a million screens and buttons simply can't. And there's something in the way I seem to connect with my subjects when the intimidation of a huge camera is removed that allows an honesty, a truth, to shine through. For me anyway.

And so my advice is not that it doesn't matter what you shoot on, but quite the opposite: find the camera that excites you, that feels RIGHT in your hands, that lets your creations match up with the vision in your head, whether it's old, new, film, digital, or an iPhone. Be okay with being that girl who shows up to work with lipstick and a smile and an unassuming little camera around her neck. Rock your style. Own your process. And when people mistake your unconventional exterior for harmlessness, be polite and keep on shooting on your Trojan horse of a camera. Because when the images on the other side ooze soul and magic, the world will notice. They always do.

Flew overnight to the weird wild land of Los Angeles to direct a project for @louisvuitton and @supremenewyork . Desperately in need of sleep. And about 10 lbs of California tacos. ❤️

It's evenings out on the stoop watching little toes run through broken fire hydrants, deliberately busted open by the firehouse down the block because we may not have yards or pools, but we do have one another- eight million of us to be exact- feverishly clustered together in what we call a city, but what feels more like a thousand tiny villages. It's the endearingly crazy neighbors across the hall who stop over for iced coffee every day. It's the way the hustle of the streets slows way down for a couple of months, quieting the noise just long enough to hear the guitar of the street musician on the corner drift up through your windows. It's a poem. It's a song. It's summer in the city, and it's finally here. #bellesnyc

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