A mother of four, photographer, nature lover. Someone trying to make sense of it all, through photos and stories. 

I try to be free in all senses of the word, so I made the leap and now work with what I love doing; taking pictures, storing this life in moments, both for myself and for clients. My heart is in photographing birth and motherhood, but I take on just about any photography job. 
(See my birth photos at www.birth.no and the rest of my work portfolio at www.mariavatne.no.)

I live on a farm in Norway with my man Nik and my children Ronja, Freja, Falk and Ulv, plus a bunch of animals. We grow our own food as far as the seasons allow it, we don't go to kindergarten, the three youngest ones will be homeschooled.

We govern our own lives, we strive for independence, we want to be in this life wild and free and full of love.

The end of a year.

The end of a year.

Maria Vatne

Wow, what a year it has been. 

I'm writing this as I sit in my kitchen, the fire is lit, my dog is sleeping next to it, I have a glass of beer next to me, Daniel Norgren is playing on my stereo. I am alone in my house. My children are in the house next door, with their father - except for Ronja, who is with her father a little further away. If you had told me a year ago that my situation would be this, I wouldn't have believed you. I probably would have thought it sounded wonderful, and scary, because we were struggling then, but I'd never believed it to be possible. I was so determined to stay in my marriage, to push and push and push through, to not give up, and it was costing us a lot. I had already failed in a relationship - with Ronjas father, years ago, and I had decided to never let that happen again. And although it was obvious that some sort of break was needed, I still couldn't see it clearly - yet. I was too set on my decision, and it felt like a huge failure to admit defeat and split up another family with children involved. My expectations and dreams for this family did definitely not include divorce. 

And yet, it happened. A few months down the line, the end came, there was no more road to walk. We were done. We had tried long enough. So with spring came definition, a closure and a new beginning, tears and grief and relief, excitement and exhaustion, hand in hand. To make the breakup smoother for the kids, we still lived together for another seven months, until he just recently moved into the farm next door. It was a hard seven months - straining on all parties - but worth it. And now, we breathe easier, are happier, see each other more clearly, appreciate each other more. Talk about things more honestly and without resentment. Hold no grudges. Dare to connect with each other again. It feels nice. It feels like all the struggles were worthwhile, like we had to walk that path to get to where we are now, like this was where our natural current led us. 

It has been a hard year, maybe the hardest one in my life so far, but it has also been the one where I have learned the most, where I have seen myself the clearest, where I have grown to love this woman the most. I have found hidden treasures in me, and sadness, and secrets, and I understand her better now, I embrace all that she is more. I have room for all of her. So yeah, midlife crisis/cliché or not, I don't give a shit about these things anyway, you walk the path you need to, this year has given me such growth, it has been a wonderful adventure. I have found my feet this year. And although I'm still tired, because it costs to have a year like this, my reservoirs are on the low; I am so full of love and life and good vibes for the future. Like my core is strengthened, I have no fear. 

Thank you, 2016, for being really hard and colourful and beautiful.

And thank YOU - for reading. I send my love into the ether and hope your year has been fruitful, too. Xxx

Huddle.

Huddle.
Lately:

Lately: