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.

A new kind of wilderness.

A new kind of wilderness.

Maria Vatne

It’s been quiet in here for a long time. Not because I haven’t had anything to say, more because there has just been too much. I am sick. It’s cervical cancer. I’ve been mostly in the hospital since the end of July, first having all sorts of biopsies done to find out what was wrong, and then to treat my symptoms and start the cure.

For some reason this cancer has been allowed to progress unseen for a long time, even though I have done the regular check-ups, so it has spread to several places in my body. I have lost a huge amount of weight, my muscles are gone, I have had severe breathing difficulties, I have had drains all over. I have taken hundreds of pills, so much medication. I have had to trust dozens of people and be naked and exposed to them all. And the most difficult part; I have had to be separated from my children for weeks and weeks, not able to mother them or be a part of their everyday life.

So now, when we were supposed to be in our camper van somewhere in Europe, we are facing this new kind of wilderness instead: The bushy road of healing. Cutting through fear and chaos, we are finding our way, day by day, hour by hour. Falling and rising again. Continuously learning how to trust. Doing inner work, releasing, digging deep.
I am home again, and have been for a good while now. Hopefully I’ll be able to stay here throughout the rest of the treatment too. I have started chemo therapy, have done two rounds so far, and I’m spending my days letting it do its work while I’m with my people. Trying to eat as much as I can, reading, sitting in the autumn sun, seeing friends, playing with and reading for my kids, soaking in the joy of being back home again. Offering thanks to all the small things that are better already.

Getting to know the landscape of illness has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and although I wouldn’t say that it’s worth it, I still feel that it has given me a new perspective in this life. Being ill is not a gift, but it does come with blessings and so much love. Our journey this winter isn’t what we planned it to be, but we will embrace it and come out of it stronger and wiser and with softer hearts.

November magic.

November magic.
Finding my true north.

Finding my true north.