After a very long hiatus, we are back on the blog sharing all the things. In fact, journal sounds a bit more fitting for the direction we’re about to go here. Over the past year, I have dedicated myself to a journey of self-discovery, focusing on health, healing and newfound creativity. In that time, I have learned so much about myself. While I’ll plan to share those discoveries overtime; it dawned on me that I never properly bid farewell to some of the experiences that made my transition into this new chapter such a beautiful adventure, starting with the closure of Cityhouse Collective.
After four incredible years with the most amazing creatives, small businesses, friends, and clients in Austin, Texas, we closed our doors at Cityhouse Collective last June. It was an incredibly difficult decision and while many people knew, somewhere along the way my mind was entirely too cluttered to make sense of what I really wanted to express. As time continued to pass and the right words became more challenging to find, I began directing my attention to opening a new chapter in my life, one that I was initially reluctant to start. Sure, I could have come up with a very cliche small business message, but if you know me, you know that I’m simply not that kind of gal especially when it’s something I care about so deeply. In the last year I received a flood of messages and emails either asking about the studio or simply to check in with me since in that time, I also decided to take a sabbatical. It was becoming more and more noticeable that I wasn’t posting or sharing like I used it.
So let’s talk about the closure. Managing the space from over 600 miles away just wasn’t serving me or my family as I had initially thought it would. The first year after our move (2022-2023) was spent traveling just about every month to check on the studio, photograph sessions, and visit our older two that stayed behind for both work and school. This routine of travel often left me locked away in my office when I got back home to Tennessee. I wasn’t getting out of the house much due to how much time I was already spending away from home when I was out of town, and how much work I was bringing home from those trips. We were also thick in the throws of renovating in that first year. I also hadn’t taken the time to meet people and make friends, let alone scout the overall area for opportunities of interest and creativity. What I didn’t realize was that I was making very little effort to build a life in Memphis because we still had so much life happening across the states already. Essentially, all of my full time work was housed in Austin for the span of that year with both the studio and photography sessions. However, I truly felt like I could make it work and that my long distance schedule would eventually get easier. Surely, moving and working long distance was not my first rodeo.
To be honest, I wasn’t even thinking about relaunching my photography brand right away in Tennessee either and thought that, word of mouth if any, would be good enough overtime. With the little interaction I was having in our new town I’ve was able to work with a few new families in the area so that was great. But I also had enough photography work in Texas to last me a long while so I didn’t feel a sense of urgency. In Addition to that, because the the oldest two (who stayed behind) were also there, I felt like it just made sense to keep things the way they were and bonus points.. I could visit them when in town. I’d head down for a full week or a long weekend, shoot some sessions, visit, pop into the space for a few days and then leave. Back in Tennessee, I even started poking around to see if there could be a potential “second location” for a studio share in Memphis. That maybe if I did that, I could create something new here that would foster a familiar community and that the two could live harmoniously under the MH&Co umbrella. What’s funny is that over the years I was asked by the local community on several occasions to open on the south side of Austin. I had always been intrigued and thought if the right space revealed itself… that maybe I’d do it. But behind that idea there was always hesitation and despite finding a few locations that could work, I never really pulled the trigger. But here I was looking somewhere completely unfamiliar and in a different state without an established community yet. It’s often said, if you build it they will come and while that was true for Austin, I can’t help but think of the the naivete of it all.
Reflecting on it now, I understand what held me back though. While it might have been financially beneficial, it would have strayed from my initial vision and business model of a family-owned, single-location small business. I had always envisioned Cityhouse Collective as sort of a neighborhood spot. It’s why I called it Cityhouse to begin with actually. It was designed to be a place where “everybody knows your name,” kind of deal and that vision kept me focused on preserving those values, regardless of how big or small we’d ever come to be. Once the studio was open for business in 2019, my family was all in it with me. Either helping when I needed an extra hand or simply hanging out and keeping me company when the days were set to be long. It was truly a family affair and something that felt so special to us. I have a long list of memories that happened in that space and there is one that strikes my heart like a lighting bolt to this day. It was the day my mother called me and told me she had cancer and the day I found out that her battle had ended after just having spent time with her in Florida the week before. That’s how much time I spent there. To have these two incredibly painful moments coincidently happen in the same spot- our well loved shooting bay. And although I have experienced sadness in the space, there were so many countless good parts. From the anticipation of our suite being built starting in 2017, to our first community meet up sharing about our vision at the local coffee shop, to our founding members who trusted in us and took a chance before the space was even ready to use, to one of the first shoots in the space which was from my time mentoring a photography student, to the crazy talent walking through the doors each day, to our incredible studio members who truly were the backbones of the space, our events, styled sets, workshops and classes and micro wedding during covid that landed us on the local news, to the pandemic that only made our community stronger, nights out with studio friends and all of the amazing families I had the honor of capturing within those walls. “The possibilities are endless” was one of our taglines, and nowhere did it ring truer than our “Making Cityhouse a Home” slogan. While business was often on the agenda, life happened here, and everyone felt like family.
By the early spring of 2023 I couldn’t ignore that Cityhouse had started to feel more transactional in nature, much like an online business despite being a physical space. So I decided to take a complete pause from creating content and posting on social media to shut off the noise and focus on my heart. I wanted to be sure of my feelings, as I often attributed them to either stress from traveling, unchecked health issues (more on this later), and the bittersweet milestone of our daughter graduating and then heading to college, which gradually made our household feel emptier. This was after already spending the entire first year with her best friends family in order to stay at her home school to finish twelfth grade. In that pause, I also couldn’t help but feel like the place where I used to live 12 minutes away from, greeted guests daily, made art, watched small business flourish and grow was slowly becoming just four walls and a roof through no fault of its own. I hated it. I hated that this amazing place that so many of us had enjoyed was becoming reduced to that feeling. Although the incredible girls who I’d hire to help manage it took great care of it, I knew deep down it was changing. So I was left at a crossroads. I had to decide whether to change with it or end my journey in that moment.
Mr. MH&Co (my husband Carlos) was incredibly supportive of keeping the space going, but his frequent and often sporadic travel with his new job—the one that brought us to Tennessee—made it even more challenging to manage our busy traveling schedules. We had countless discussions about this, often during late-night pillow talks that left my eyelids puffy. Amid all this, our youngest son was beginning his own journey, navigating middle school without his older siblings at home. There were no more trips down the long hallway to play video games together, vent, or share something exciting with them. While he still had us, his parents, we couldn’t help but think about how tough it must be to start middle school in a new place without his beloved siblings around. After several more late-night discussions, it just seemed like this season of our lives required a different approach. Eventually, we agreed that one of us had to step back to make our new dynamic work for our family. Spoiler alert: it was me.
Along the way, I encountered many subtle nudges from the universe guiding me through my tangled thoughts—a path with no clear endpoint, just a call to trust the journey. One long-standing member was preparing to open her own space nearby, ensuring our community still had a place to gather and that brought me so much comfort. Another local creative approached me for guidance on starting their own studio elsewhere, prompting me to write a comprehensive guide over two months, which they later purchased. This inspired me to expand it into a book based on my experiences as a studio owner—a project I’ve nearly completed a year later. However, the most significant sign came from a dear friend and fellow business owner who had been a member of the space for almost three years. She expressed interest in taking over Cityhouse should we decide to close. These encounters affirmed to me that it was okay to end our journey. So, when the time came, I left her the keys, some pieces of furniture- like our rolling wall and famous bed prop and she moved in shortly after. Closing Cityhouse was bittersweet and it took me so much time to come to terms with. But in letting it go, it allowed me to begin prioritizing my life (and health) in Memphis. What’s best yet, is that I’ve even had the beautiful opportunity to come back and utilize the space to sneak in a few sessions while in town thanks to her, and I’m so incredibly grateful to see the space thriving under her ownership now.
After saying goodbye to Cityhouse, I still felt a lingering heaviness though. Photography, a career I’ve had now for over 16 years will always be something I could never simply give up entirely. But I knew that I just wasn’t ready to rebuild that part of my life quite yet in Tennessee. Unsure of how many years we’d spend in the mid south, or where this new chapter would lead, what was to be a short social media break turned into a year-long break to figure out what was next. This was going to be a season that provided a rare opportunity for me to explore my creativity in a new way, free from pressure. It took over a year to reach this point, showing just how nuanced the journey of self-development can be. This is the year I entered into my “pretend retirement era” and now, I can’t wait to share with you all that I’ve done in this time. Stay Tuned!