Behind the Lens
Get to know the photographer & artist
Hey, I’m Maren, wife, mama, lover of jigsaw puzzles and cozy blankets, rainy days, Brandon Sanderson (the author), recovering perfectionist, perpetual student, and your photographer.
I fell in love with photography when it showed me a truth that, up until my senior pictures, I’d been unable to see on my own. That I’m beautiful.
That truth started me on a journey to self-love and acceptance and a passion to give others the same gift- truth.
My mission, mama, is to capture your story, your truth in a beautiful, poetic way that will lift you out of the daily grind and show you how amazing you are.
Because you are.
Documentary
Why I love it
Over the 15+ years I’ve been doing photography (wow! that number is getting up there!) I’ve dabbled and flirted with documentary photography off and on.
I’ve always loved the raw, realness of a good documentary photo that holds a whole story in one frame. But it wasn’t until 2024 that I knew I had to pursue it in my art and my business.
It all started with a movie based on a true story. As the credits rolled, photos of the real-life people appeared on the screen.
And you know what photos they chose? Not a posed or even semi-posed portrait. It was a candid shot of the family camping.
That image did something—it made the story feel real, tangible, and true to the characters we’d just spent two hours getting to know.
Instantly, it took me back to a moment I’ll never forget.
When I was in college, a close friend of mine passed away in a motorcycle accident. A portrait I’d taken of him just a few months before featured prominently in the news story covering it. Seeing that image brought a wave of emotions I was NOT ready for.
Besides all the sadness and loss I felt personally, the story just felt incomplete.
That portrait didn’t capture him. It didn’t show his energy, his humor, or the vibrant, beautiful life he lived.
Those portraits meant so much to me, his family, and everyone mourning his loss. But when you want to sum up a life in pictures, a portrait just won’t cut it. We need the moments—the real, unposed, unscripted ones—that tell the story of who someone truly is.
That is what documentary photography is to me. Images that tell the full, vibrant, and complete story of life.
Portraits
Why I love them
I don’t remember when it started, I look back at pictures of myself now and I don’t think I was a chubby kid. And yet I can’t remember a time when “fat” wasn’t part of my identity. I was the fat girl. The fat sister. The fat friend.
As a teenager… Well, it was obviously true then. I was overweight. And believe me, I knew it.
In my teenage brain “fat” and “ugly” were synonyms, and nobody wanted someone who was ugly. I felt worthless and desperate to feel desirable… something I doubted I would ever be to anyone.
I had mixed feelings about getting my senior pictures. We didn’t carry decent cameras (aka cell phones) around with us everywhere back then and people, in general, were much less comfortable in front of the camera, even if they weren’t fat. In fact, I remember it was almost expected that you’d throw your hand up and/or turn away from the camera.
But senior pictures were the thing to do, so I went along.
After my session, I remember checking my photographer’s blog over and over, too anxious to be hopeful. When they were finally published, I scrolled while silently criticizing myself in every picture… until this one.
I stopped dead and just stared.
Was that me?
Couldn’t be… she was beautiful. And I was fat and therefore ugly… Wasn’t I?
But it was. That. Was. Me.
For the first time, size and beauty became two separate and unrelated concepts in my brain.
That picture allowed me to penetrate a lifetime of noise, comparison, prejudice, and lies to see the truth.
My life changed that day, that photographer, that picture, they gave me a gift and started me down a road of self-love and acceptance. They’re the reason I can look at myself today, wishing I was the size I was then, and still stand confident, knowing that I am beautiful.
And my dabbling interest in photography turned into a passion. A passion to shoot past the lies and capture truth.
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My life in pictures
The pictures someone loved me enough to take
You know that scene in cheesy Christmas rom-coms where the mom pulls out the photo album, flips through it with the love interest, and tells all the embarrassing stories?
I don’t love that it’s usually portrayed as a cringy, “roll your eyes at mom” moment because really, who doesn’t want to see all the haircuts, hobbies, Halloween costumes, and history that make up the person you’re falling in love with?
You could live whole lifetimes together and never hear some of those stories. What a beautiful way to get to know someone.
What are pictures but love notes written by those who cared enough to take them or have them taken?
Love notes that say “I’m proud of you, I love being with you, I see you, you matter.”
Welcome to my photo album.
The First Picture
This is the very first picture of me, taken when I was around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
Cuddles with Dad at the Family Ranch
This was taken at my grandma’s (dad’s mom) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, which still stands but has been added onto and updated over the years. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my great uncle. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further onto the property. Looking at this picture makes me feel so safe and loved in my daddy’s arms. I love how my eyes are open, but my body is totally relaxed, happy just chilling with dad.
One Year Old
Mowing the Lawn with Dad
This trailer pulled behind my dad’s riding lawn mower must have been around for ages, because I do have memories of doing this many, many, many times. As a mom now, I bet my mom loved this thing. Dad mows the lawn, and she still gets some time alone; that’s a pretty sweet deal. I remember, when I got older, we’d lie down in the back on our stomachs, reach over the edge, and gather up the grass clippings as they came out of the lawn mower. After he was done, we’d take our gathered treasure and build nests on the lawn and pretend we were little baby birds.
TWo YEARS OLD
Our Cat Dutchess
When my little brother was about to be born, my parents had the idea to get my two older sisters and me two kittens so we could love the kitties to death instead of our new baby brother. And we did. Dutchess and O’Malley (yes, like the Aristocats), and they were brother and sister. They were strictly outdoor cats, so I have no idea how I managed to sneak Dutchess in on this night. Or how I kept her on my lap long enough to doze off.
Bedtime Stories
When I look at this picture, I can hear my dad’s voice saying my favorite lines from our favorite books. Dr. Suess, when we were young, “You are Special” by Max Lucado, when we got a bit older, and “The Chronicles of Narnia” by C.S. Lewis, when we were older still.
It’s funny, though… if you asked me who read to us without a picture to prompt the conversation, I’d say my mom. Anytime we had a long car ride, my mom read to us. Nancy Drew and Harry Potter are the ones I can remember by name, but there were definitely more. When my family grew so large that we graduated from our suburban to a 15-passenger van (because if you need a 12-seater, you might as well go all the way) we even got a special mic that plugged into the sound system so those of us stuck in the back could still hear her. When Harry Potter 6 came out, we saved it for our drive to Disneyland. After our first morning in the park, we returned to the RV for lunch, and my parents asked what we wanted to do next… we voted on more Harry Potter. We even read it in Disneyland while saving our seats to watch Fantasia. Audiobooks were probably a thing back then… but I didn’t know they existed. I had mom.
Bookworm
Can I even read yet? No idea… I do know this isn’t the only picture of me asleep with a pile of books stacked on my chest. When I got older, I’d go to the library and check out a stack of 5 or 6 books, read them in a week, and go back to do it all over again.
Six Years Old
This is probably when I started hating my hair. My mom had always kept it short, something to do with a famous person who had short hair; she thought it was just the cutest thing. I was over it the first time someone mistook me for a boy. I would try to grow it out, but I couldn’t handle it tickling my face; I’d never experienced that before! It took me 3 or 4 more years before I finally managed to do it. Even now, I can’t imagine cutting my hair short because of the “trauma”.
Wrestling with Dad
Growing up, wrestling with Dad when he got home from work was a nightly tradition. He’d let us think we were winning for a few minutes, then pin all three, four, or five of us and tickle us until we were screaming.
That credenza in the background, we had it most my life. I’ll never forget one night when my dad got home from work and discovered one of the panes of glass had been shattered. He asked all angry who was responsible… that anger quickly turned to laughter when mom sheepishly raised her hand.
Orange Julius
From before I was two years old until my oldest sister could drive, we had one babysitter. She started when she was 11 and kept coming back until well into her college years. We joked that she’d bring guys she was dating around for the “kid test,” and she’d occasionally break dates to come babysit, and was the one who watched us when my last two or three brothers were born. Anyways… Orange Julius was her thing, she’d make it for us pretty much every time she watched us after plenty of begging on our part, I’m sure. It’s probably her holding the camera.
Little Wing
Back on Grandma’s ranch and I’m riding Little Wing, called that for the small patch of white on the side of her belly that you can’t even see in this picture. She belonged to another of Grandma’s brothers, whose sons still run cattle on the ranch to this day. She was the sweetest horse and so patient with kids. The best part of visiting the ranch was riding the horses.
Nine Years Old
See? I’m starting to grow my hair out. I think this is the time it sticks!
The Junk Yard
When I think about a classic 90’s childhood, I think about the Junkyard. Imagine the smallest of small towns in southern Utah, population: 600 in a good year. Lots of farmland and farmers including my grandpa (maternal) who lived there all his life. Behind his house sat the junkyard, a magical place with lots of old machinery, spare bit of scrap in a variety. of shapes and forms, and little to no supervision. And once or twice a year, all seven of their children returned home for various holidays, bringing all the cousins a kid could ask for. The Junkyard was our playground. We rode golf carts and 4-wheelers around in circles for hours, sometimes racing, occasionally crashing (thankfully never with any serious injury). And we built (not so) secret forts where we played mafia for hours. I’m not sure you can replicate the magic of the junkyard these days, but as a mom, I sometimes wish I could.
10 Years old
Look at my hair! I did it! Hasn’t been shorter than that since.
Spanish Immersion
From first to sixth grade, I was in a Spanish immersion program at my elementary school. Before you get too excited… I’m not fluent enough to conduct your session in Spanish… but if you speak it, I’ll probably understand.
Besides the language, we also learned about Spanish cultures from around the world, culminating in a dance festival at the end of the year. Each grade wore the same costumes every year, and I remember being so excited to wear this one. My mom even helped make some of them as my sister was in the inaugural Spanish immersion class.
The dance festival always ended with both students and audience having a big dance party to the Macarena.
7th Grade (13)
Not so Secret Swimming Hole
When I was 8, my family got an RV and took it to the Redwoods for a family reunion. On our way back, we noticed my grandparents’ and great aunt & uncles’ RV parked on the side of the road, none of them were in sight. Curious and a bit concerned, we followed a trail that was barely there trail down to a gentle river where we found them picnicking on a huge rock. We begged my parents, and a short time later we were back from the RV in our swimsuits with our own picnic lunch. The water was freezing and most of us could only tolerate putting our feet in for a few seconds. But it was beautiful… and a tradition was born. Everywhere we went, we looked for swimming holes.
This spot is in Zion National Park. When we first went there, it was just us, maybe one other family. Now you’re lucky if you find parking. You can slide down the last tier of the waterfall into a cute shallow pool, but a few steps downstream, it deepens enough that you can “cliff” jump (these are small cliffs). We’d go to Zions just to visit this small, unnamed place.
And then... I became invisible
That picture of the waterfall, it marks the moment I stop showing up in pictures.
I got my start in photography because of the junior high yearbook team. By this point, I had been on it for a few years and was learning more about not just taking good pictures but gaining an appreciation for the history aspect of it. My grandma loved this picture so much she decided to paint it, and I found my calling.
From that moment on, I became the family photographer, and I stopped showing up candidly in photos. And it was my choice, but I don’t think I fully understood what that meant for me… and my story.
Sophomore year
Senior Year
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
College
My first year of college, my roommates and I decided to do roommate pictures.
Missionary Me
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
Engagement Pictures
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
Bridals
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
We're Having a Baby
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
The First Picture
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
The First Picture
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
The First Picture
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
The First Picture
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
The First Picture
As far as I know or can remember seeing, this is the very first picture of me at around 3 months old. If there were any earlier, they didn’t survive the transition from analog to digital.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
1992
Cuddles with Dad at the family ranch
I obviously can’t remember anything from when I was this young, so I don’t have a specific story about this picture. But that is my dad, and I feel safe and loved just looking at this picture. I also know that we are at my grandma’s (his mom’s) family ranch in Panguitch, UT. We’re in the “old” cabin, a structure that still stands but has been added onto and updated. We also don’t get to go there very much anymore as it’s owned by my Grandma’s brother. When we visit the ranch now, we stay at the cabin my grandparents built a little further into the property.
you're not alone.
As mamas, we are constantly bombarded with controversy, comparison, glorified hustle, and so much noise.
It’s never been so easy to lose yourself. To feel less than. To feel defeated.
When you look at the pictures from our time together, I hope you see yourself, REALLY see yourself.
The way your partner and kids do…
I hope you see how your kids look at you… with complete confidence and trust. I hope you see that in their eyes, you are the very definition of beauty.
I hope you see how your partner sees you… beautiful, sexy, strong, their rock and best friend.
This is your truth.
Truth that you’re often too close, too consumed with the day-to-day, too caught up in the hustle to see.
That you’re beautiful. Loved. Powerful. And freaking killing it!
I want you to SEE you…
..and the beauty of exactly who you are and where you are in this chapter of your story.
take the quiz
Get to Know Me
#1 How many siblings do you have?
Seven! 2 older sisters, 5 younger brothers. Big families are my jam!
#2 What is the best advice you have ever received?
Sometimes our greatest weaknesses are our strengths taken too far.
#3 What was your major in college?
Human development with an emphasis on child guidance.
#4 What are you most scared of?
Scorpions!
#5 What’s something You can’t live without?
A good soak in the tub
#6 What are some of your favorite things?
Harry Potter, jigsaw puzzles, cozy blankets, being out in nature, and making memories.
#7 What’s your secret talent?
Harry Potter trivia
#8 What Your Favorite Inspirational Quote?
Happiness is the destination, but it’s also the path. – Dieter F. Uchtdorf
meet the fam!
My Reason for Everything
MATT
Husband. Father. Perpetual student. Doctor. Board Game Collector. Pokémon Master. Bird Watcher. Gamer. Nerd. Partner. Best friend.
EMI
Mama-maker. Smarty-Pants. Master mess-maker. Animal lover. Incessant giggler. Science explorer. Pokémon apprentice. Squishy hug-giver.
Adi
Baby sister. Master nap taker. Cutest noise maker. Chonky boobie eater. Pooper. Daddy’s squishmallow. Mamas cuddle buddy.
Rego
Furbaby. Face Licker. Foot Warmer. Attention Demander. Cuddle Buddy. Silly & Stinky. Wet Nose Ambusher. Unconditional Lover.