Hi there, friend. I'm Anne Simone.
I'm a writer, photographer, and ADHD-fueled daydreamer. I live in the 'burbs of Baltimore, Maryland, with my goofy rescue dog, handsome husband, an entirely too many throw pillows.
Ask me, "What's your dream job?"
And I'll say, "I already have it."
I've dream-jobbed my way through life, in fact.
Not that every job was easy—or even fun.
But on every new path, I've encountered someone phenomenal. Through every open door, I've discovered something impossible. And after every dive, I've bobbed, witchy and gleeful, back to the surface of the water.
Here are three milestones that made me the story-obsessed writer I am today:
#1: The Assignment
It was simple. I had to select a famous photographer and present the artist's work to my portfolio school class.
But my ADHD brain could never settle for just doing the assignment. And so, fueled by vending machine snacks and 19-year-old bravado, I wrangled an in-person interview with the fashion master himself: Patrick Demarchelier.
I remember that he smelled of cigarettes. His French accent sent butterflies into the hollows of my rib cage. And when I asked why he occasionally appeared, wrapped like a mummy, in his own fashion photographs, he said, "Because sometimes the clothes are boring."
#2: The Secret
I never meant to photograph weddings, but there I was, with my medium format film camera trying to paparazzi my way through ring bearer meltdowns and zipper malfunctions.
At one particularly formal affair, the bride's mom poured champagne into old prescription bottles so her daughter's wedding party could share a pre-ceremony toast in the teetotaling church.
One month after the wedding, that mischievous mama died. She'd had cancer—and hadn't told a soul. The photographs I made of her were the last ever taken: surrounded by family and friends, sneaking sips of champagne with her daughter, and dancing with all the joy her fading bones could muster.
#3: The Letter
In the medieval days of marriage inequality, I blogged an open letter in defense of a queer couple whose wedding photograph had been rejected by a magazine.
It went terribly, wonderfully, astoundingly viral.
And the magazine apologized. And they published the photograph.
That was when I knew: my words could have power. Could change lives. Would change my life.
If you have a project that: