Photographer captures beauty for families out of the destruction of the Marshall Fire
A Colorado woman is crystalizing the emotions of those affected by the Marshall Fire with her photography and helping them heal through their own artistic expression.
The photographs are moments of time in the images of wrecked homes and scared lives.
This is the photography of Katy Tartakoff, who offered her talents to some of the fire victims. Some are missing a lifetime of memories.
"Being able to see some beauty in the destruction is something that people don't think about, but there is a lot of beauty," Tartakoff told CBS Colorado's Alan Gionet.
The way things once appeared is difficult to recall on days when the wind rises. That's the case for Jessica Bjorklund, who recently looked over the cleared lot where she lived in Louisville with her family.
"Which is hard now to remember ... All the trees are gone and all the houses," Bjorklund told Gionet.
It is there the wildfire stole part of the Bjorklund's past.
"That was hard. That was really hard," Jessica said.
Jessica's husband reached out to Tartakoff, who set up a shoot with the family before their property in Louisville was cleared. She put them together at the front door with their daughters, Ida and Tuva, looking into a house that's no longer there.
In the rubble was an ironing board.
"First of all, most people don't know what ironing boards are anymore," Tartakoff said with laughter. "But you know, it looked like a painting. Right?"
Tartakoff volunteered to create memories for nearly a dozen homeowners, including her own brother.
"I know the power of having an image that tells a story," Tartakoff said.
The Bjorklund family explained to Tartakoff it was hard to return to their home that was no longer present. But Tartakoff had an idea. She asked the girls, 12 and 14 years old, what they liked to do.
"I watched them get out of the car when they first got there and just see all the trepidation, and then see them transform into these beautiful young women dancers just full of life," Tartakoff said.
Dance. In front of the home they lost, they soared toward the sky.
"The strength and pride in them is so beautiful to me, even with all the rubble and destruction," Tartakoff said.
"It was a great combination with something you love ... and then something sad, but still something you like and love," Bjorklund said.
Then, the girls had their own idea.
"And then they said, 'We used to always climb this tree in the backyard, and it's partly dead, but it's still there. Would you take pictures of us climbing the tree?'" Tartakoff recalled. "And I said, 'Absolutely.'
Soon, it would be gone, knocked down when the site was cleared. But the shot remains in their hearts.
There was a home there; now, memories are what remain.
"The photos she took are amazing and the girls love them," Bjorklund said.
As they rebuild like their neighbors, some of their worst days can remain on their walls without trauma.
"It's just special memories," Bjorklund said.
"If there's something I can do to make a difference in someone's life, then I'm all in," Tartakoff.
