Cassie Jones Photography » Art, Life, and everything in between


It was hot. The windows were rolled down. My bare feet were up on the dash and the sun was sinking lower in the horizon. My sunglasses sat on my nose, the radio was blaring and we were singing at the top of our lungs, our fingers threaded in the middle.  The sky was painted a brilliant orange and there was just enough daylight left to get to the river, fish for a bit, and head back home.

We headed to the river, our poles in the back of the truck and our bobbers bobbling in the wind.

We hiked down to our favorite spot.  The water stays a consistent 52 degrees all year long and the cool was welcomed.  We were about knee deep, back to back in a comfortable silence when I felt a fish nibbling at my leg.  I kicked to get it off and went about trying to get my line un-stuck from the nearby tree.  (My lure always spent more time tangled than in the water.)

However, the fish just wouldn’t stop.

I turn and rusty catches my eye, his fishing vest and hat on and he’s yanking at his line, which is obviously caught on something.

And I could have sworn that fish suddenly grew razor sharp teeth.  Because suddenly, it’s biting was no longer a nibble.  I looked down and saw the shiny lure sparkling at my shin.  My eyes widened, and I told him, “Rusty– STOP!”

“My lure’s stuck,” he says.

“I know!  It’s stuck on me!”

Three hours later –

Sitting in the waiting room of the Emergency Room, we were thankful when I was finally called back.  The lure, still dangling from my leg was set in pretty good and it jingled when I walked. “Hey, you’re not a trout,” one of the male nurses said.  And then they all started filing in to look at my leg as if I were a spectacle at a fair like the six legged calf or the two headed snake.

Last night, I was looking around our bookshelf and found a denture cup sitting, collecting dust.  I opened it up and found that lure sitting inside and the memory replayed in my head.  Six years later, it still makes me smile.

I also still maintain that I was the best fish he ever caught.  :)

These were taken that same summer at the same river.


Hog Happenings

I’ve never been a spots fan, per say.  In fact, my main knowledge of sports consisted of mixed up rules however, I was pretty good at remembering which colors went with which teams. (The artist in me remembers a good mix of complimentary colors.)

 Apparently, matching colors with the team, however, doesn’t qualify me as a sports fanatic.

Last year, if you would have asked me what happened during a football game, I’d tell you that a bunch of boys ran around trying to get the foot ball through the field goal posts.  I would have told you that they tip off, and that defense and offense were the same players. I thought that the quarterback just meant he was team captain and that off sides was when the ball got out of bounds or something.

I had no idea what football was.  Clearly.

But when Scott and Jennifer  took us to our first football game last year — I learned that a touchdown is actually what we want, that the game stops for commercials, and that I actually enjoy watching a bunch of boys hit one another on the field.  Once I got the rules down, learned what off sides was– I actually started to enjoy it.  I found myself, the rest of the year anxious for Saturday afternoons spent on the couch watching the game.

This year, my new love for football has only gotten worse.  This year, not only do I know the game, understand it, know all the cheers and songs for my beloved Razorbacks, but I also know some of the boys by name.  And when they do dumb things– I have absolutely no problem calling them on it.

Last weekend, Scott, Jen, Rusty and I headed to Oxford Mississippi for my second live Razorback game.  And I tell you, there’s nothing like getting up at 3:30 on a crisp fall morning, decked out in your hog colors with the flags on the car, two pregnant women in the back seat sleeping, the boys in the front talking over the radio about the upcoming game and hearing the honks you get from passing razorback fans also headed to the game.  There’s nothing like the camaraderie you feel when you see the same hog fans at breakfast, the game, dinner and walking around downtown and you spontaneously give people high fives and a “Woo Pig!”

And at the game, there’s nothing like cheering on your team with half the stadium, tearing up at the National Anthem echoing through the stadium and the man beside you yelling obnoxiously the whole game. You know that fan.  The one that would rip his shirt open at any time and is like a ticking time bomb.  The one that screams at the top of his lungs and gives obscene hand signals towards the other team and the refs.

I sat by him.

 And no, I don’t mean Rusty.

However, when I started to get into the whole, game day feeling and began to be on my feet screaming more than I was sitting in my seat eating — I surprised Rusty with my enthusiasm and the man beside me at one point gave me a big high five and a hug.  By the end of the game, our voices were cracking, our feet were sore and we were a little sunburned– but we walked away feeling victorious.

We spent the rest of the evening eating awesome food, shopping, and enjoying the ride home sleeping the whole way home.

We ate breakfast in Oxford at Big Bad Breakfast.  It was AMAZING.

Rusty and I came home with matching coffee cups like the one below– and the lights above the tables were made with egg baskets!

We all look pretty good for getting up at 3:30 am.

They have an AWESOME downtown area. Historical buildings, lots of stores and some fabulous restaurants!



Crying, Fruit, and Baby Pictures

Yesterday, we anxiously waited in the doctor’s office full of expecting mothers and nervous dads.  When they called our name our faces lit up and I felt like screaming.  We were about to see our baby for the first time.

I laid back on the crinkly paper and Rusty stood at my side.  The nurse poured hot liquid on my stomach and put the ultrasound thingie on my belly and began to rub around.  Rusty and my eyes were glued to the screen waiting to see that little bean pop up.  As soon as he or she came into view, we could see a faint flickering in the middle.

“That’s the heart beat,” she said.  And that’s when I lost it.  Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as the nurse took pictures of our baby and pointed out the length and told us our due date.

Our baby, the size of a kidney bean, has a beating heart and webbed fingers and toes.  And nothing has ever amazed me more.  God is simply amazing.

Here it is! Our baby’s first photograph!

Along with the excitement of having a baby, some interesting changes have taken place.  Tiredness and queasiness to be expected but what I didn’t expect was the superhuman changes to my nose.  It’s a sniffing super hero now.  It can smell perfume from a room away and cheerios being eaten from the chair across from me in the living room.

Last night, Rusty came over after he’d eaten nearly a whole bag of them and got close to my face for a kiss.  I considered myself an emotional person before pregnancy but when I smelled the cheerios on his breath, I couldn’t fight the tears that began to stream down my face.

“Why are you crying?” He asked.  ”It smells THAT bad,” I told him.  For a good ten minutes, we sat on the couch laughing at my inability to stop crying.

I also may or may not have cried at every Johnson and Johnson television commercial I’ve seen.

And cravings? I never knew they’d include things like Christmas music, juice and fruit.  I’ve got a full Christmas playlist including the likes of She and Him, Michael Buble and the Carpenters on my spotify, a bag full of clementines, bananas and apples, and a refrigerator full of five different kinds of juices.  And chocolate tastes horrible.  Finally.

We are so thankful for the little miracle we’re expecting in late May.  And for the memories God’s giving us along the way.


Josh + Katie

This morning, as the rain pounded against the windows of my dark room, I sat with a book in my hands, curled around pillows atop my bed and sighed as I thought about the two people sleeping on the other side of the house. With Josh on the couch and Katie in the spare bedroom the house was quiet and peaceful. And images from the night before played in my head like a black and white movie.

It was the first time I’d met them, in real life.  For years, I’ve had heroes in the industry. People I looked up to.  And Josh Newton is one of them.  So imagine my excitement when he told me that he and Katie were coming through Arkansas on their trip across the country and that they’d be stopping by the farm and spending some time with me.

From the moment they walked through the door, I fell even more in love with them.  Instantly.  I can’t imagine I could meet two nicer people.  Or two people better for one another.

“I just want one photo. Right over there. Is that cool?”

That’s what he asked me. And immediately my fingers went numb.

An industry hero of mine asked me to take their photo.  I was nervous.  Not gonna lie. But as we set out together on a walk around the farm, the nerves subsided and I so enjoyed capturing their love.

Josh and Katie, I can’t thank you enough for taking time out of your trip to see me.  I so enjoyed meeting you and spending time with you and I can’t wait to see you both again.  I miss you already.

And I’m so honored to have the opportunity to capture your love.

I thought it’d be fun to have an all black and white post.:)These images–they make my heart happy.



David Jay - SO HOT!

Cassie - :) Thanks, Deej!!!

Montana Dennis - Love it.. Hahahahah I have seen more pictures of Josh in the last week than I have ever seen hahaha.. Sick stuff!

Bubble Gum Shoes

When I was 15 — I walked through the halls of my highschool with a purpose.  I had big dreams, paint on my fingers from art class and my eye on a boy for years whose locker just happened to be a few down from mine.  Whose parking spot was “mysteriously” next to mine.  And whose smile could make me weak at any given moment.

Walking to Algebra one day, I took one step too many in my super cute heeled sandals when something happened and I ended up on my rear with my books scattered half way across the hall way. Pens clinked as they rolled and suddenly, tears were in my eyes. 

“Are you okay?”

Rusty stood before me, hand outstretched, smile on his face and my broken off heel in his hands.  “I’ll fix it,” he said assuredly. 

We made it to Algebra and five minutes later my shoe was returned in perfect condition.  I looked at him with wide eyes and without having to ask the question he answered, “bubble gum.” 

Ever since that day, I knew our friendship would never be the same.  And ever since then, he’s played a role in my life that none could replace.

From fixing shoes to fixing the garage door he’s always been there, ready to make repairs.   Ready to be my shoulder to cry on.  To be my listener when I need to be heard.  To be the driver, and the one who puts on a smile for me when I wake him up early in the morning by singing him songs complete with motions and spirit fingers. He fixes all the stuff I break (which is a lot).  He fixes my faith– bringing me back when I wander off.  He fixes my broken spirit with laughter.  And when others break it, he fixes my heart.

While we’re complete opposites in personality — he’s the man that completes me.  The one that betters me.  The one who believes in me the most.

Without my fixer life would be in broken pieces.  With him, the world is just as it should be.  

Thank you for all you do.  Happy birthday, my love.