I was sitting at my desk, half-editing, half-staring into space, when I realized this was actually happening. Not a “someday” thing. Not a “we should totally do this” idea that floats around for months and dies quietly.
I’m heading to Melbourne Beach to shoot boudoir with the women behind Inspired By…, an Orlando moms blog. Alexandra. Holly. Lily Anna.
They saw my work — the erotic stuff, the unapologetic nudity, the images that don’t try to apologize for themselves — and they didn’t ask me to tame it. No softening. No rebranding it as something else. Just, “We love this.”
You don’t forget moments like that.
We’ll be shooting at Melbourne Beach, which I’m genuinely glad about. It’s not flashy. No big boardwalk energy. It’s quieter. The sand isn’t manicured. The wind does whatever it wants. The light can be brutal one minute and perfect the next. You have to pay attention.
Outdoor boudoir keeps you honest. There’s nowhere to hide bad decisions. No studio walls to lean on. No fake sunlight. Just you, the subject, and whatever the sky decides to do that day. It’s harder. It’s messier. I like it that way.
People always imagine beach shoots as relaxed and easy. They’re not. Sand gets everywhere. Hair becomes its own personality. The wind will absolutely pick the worst possible moment to get aggressive. I’ll probably be crouched low, camera tilted, muttering something under my breath while trying not to eat sand. Very masculine. Very professional.
But when it clicks, it really clicks.
There’s something different about photographing nudity outside. It strips away a lot of the performance. In a studio, people are aware of the setup. The lights. The space. Outside, they’re reacting instead of posing. The cold water. The sun on their shoulders. The way the ground feels under bare feet. You can see when someone forgets about how they look and just… settles.
Those are the frames I’m always chasing.
What I appreciate about Inspired By… is that it’s not trying to sell a fantasy version of motherhood or womanhood. It’s not “bounce back” nonsense or toxic positivity wrapped in beige fonts. These are women who live real lives, with kids and responsibilities and opinions, who still want to be seen as sexual, confident, autonomous humans. Not in spite of being moms — just as part of who they are.
There’s a quiet confidence in that. No need to shout about empowerment. Just doing the thing.
I keep thinking about how different each of them will be in front of the camera. You can usually tell pretty quickly. Some people joke. Some people go quiet. Some move a lot, some barely at all. None of it is wrong. It’s just information. You read it, adjust, let them lead a little.
Boudoir is less about directing and more about paying attention. At least the way I shoot it. I’ll give guidance, sure, but I’m mostly watching for the moment someone drops their shoulders or exhales without realizing it. That’s when the image stops being a pose and starts being something else.
Trust plays a big role. Especially with nudity. Especially outdoors. Especially knowing the images will be shared with an audience. That’s not nothing. I don’t take that lightly.
There’s also something I respect about a moms blog being willing to publish erotic work without dressing it up or watering it down. No performative shock. No nervous disclaimers. Just, “This is us. This is allowed.” That kind of confidence doesn’t need a lot of explanation.
We’ll drive out early. Probably earlier than we want to. Coffee will be involved. I’ll walk the beach before anyone starts shooting, just to get a feel for the light and the tide and where the sand isn’t trying to kill me. By the time the camera comes out, I like to feel like I already know the place a little.
I don’t plan shoots like this down to the minute. Never have. I’d rather leave space for things to happen. For a cloud to roll in. For someone to decide they want to step closer to the water. For a moment to stretch longer than expected.
I don’t know exactly what the images will look like yet. I have a sense, sure. But that’s not the same thing. What I do know is they’ll be honest. They’ll be nude. They’ll probably have sand in places sand shouldn’t be. And they’ll feel like the people in them actually showed up, not some polished version they think they’re supposed to be.
That’s enough for me.
I’ll share more once we’re back, once the salt is washed off and the cards are dumped and I’ve had a chance to sit with the work for a bit. For now, it’s just one of those things you know is going to matter — not in a dramatic way — just in that quiet, satisfied way where you think, Yeah. This is exactly why I do this.