Stefanie Hurtado

Street Address

Brooklyn, NY

7024800059

Stefanie Hurtado

171629435769874697_07.jpg

May 6, 2013

i'm stefanie*, i was born in las vegas on the 4th of july. i'm a 23-year-old aspiring writer, photographer, life-long traveler, and amateur farmer. and i think you're really pretty.

I'm Stefanie! I'm a New York City filmmaker, photographer, traveler and writer. In love with my best friend.

This cold rainy weather in NYC is giving me major Scotland vibes in the best way. I’m cooped up inside finally tackling the thousands of photos I took over the last few months abroad. From what I can surmise so far, there are an embarrassing amount of portraits of sheep, cow, cat, pig, and every other manner of livestock you can think of 😂 I won’t inundate you with those fascinating subjects just yet. Here’s a lady in red on a rainy day in the middle of the Highlands instead ❤️

Just a couple days after we returned from our big trip, I had the sweeeet sweet honor to film prob the most New York wedding OF ALL TIME 😭❤️ The groom, a born-and-raised Queens firefighter and the bride, a gorgeous and brave burn victim. The ceremony and reception were held in the same bar the two met in on the night that hurricane Sandy hit New York City 6 years ago, which she only went to because she had no power in her Lower East Side apartment.
Their gathering was unconventional and chaotic and totally fucking perfect. It was part Jewish marriage ceremony, part bar mitzvah for her son. The room was filled with family and off-duty firefighters, followed by the arrival of two trucks of on-duty crew. We had a photo shoot with the trucks outside blocking traffic on Stanton St, a crowd of firefighters cheering on the couple with cigars in their mouths. And then an epic dance party!
This will forever be one of my favorite weddings/NY moments of all time ❤️ Video coming soon @stefaniefilms #newyorkiloveyou #nycweddingvideographer

Voting is fun! 🇺🇸 #giveadamn

Never been so happy to be home ❤️ We got home 10 days ago. I can’t tell you how many times over the last 3 months I thought about this spot right here, right by the window where I can see the Empire State Building and the sunset over the east river. How many times during a painful day on the Camino or a grueling 10 hour bus ride that I ached for Winnie and comfort and the familiarity of my bed and my books and my kitchen and the sounds of New York City.
I’ve lived a v odd, v nomadic life (since I was a kid) and used to be able to travel aimlessly for months on end because I never really had a home that I missed. I never missed Vegas or Florida or Oregon or even the Virgin Islands very much because they were never really mine to begin with. But now I know without a doubt that when I’m not here, I ache for New York. I ache for this place in a way I’ve never known before. This year taught me this twice. Sounds silly, but it’s one of the biggest revelations of my life. What a relief to know where home is. I’ll never question it again.

Dad ❤️ Pictured second is the ofrenda I created to honor my dad for Dia de los Muertos. This is a beautiful Mexican tradition that we never really celebrated as a family growing up, mostly because all of our closest relatives were still alive. My great-grandparents lived well into their 90’s. Most of my 84-year-old abuela’s siblings are still alive. It was only recently that we lost my abuelo and of course last year, my dad. Last year was my first time creating a full traditional ofrenda, because I was (and still am) very eager to honor him and his life in any way that feels right.
I made móle enchiladas with Spanish rice, pickled jalapeños and cojita again this year (his favorite meal). We made margaritas from the mezcal I brought home from his personal collection. I lit candles and let them flicker all day and night beneath photos of him at his healthiest and strongest because that is what he’ll always be to me.
This tradition, which predates catholic influence and originated in my indigenous Aztec roots, means so fucking much to me. How beautiful to celebrate the lives of our loved ones by partaking in their favorite food and drink, listening to their favorite music, and re-telling the stories that defined them. Dia de los Muertos is a celebration of life, but also death. The death that swells within us. It’s something we will all eventually face, and I now find a surprising amount of comfort in confronting that reality regularly. I find comfort in memento mori, to better enjoy life in all its fragility.
If you haven’t seen it yet, the film Coco does a freaking gorgeous job of portraying this tradition and Mexican culture in general. I grew up without any sort of positive mainstream representation, so this film had me sobbing the first time I saw it a few months ago. And such poignant timing.
The last photo of this set is my dad as a child holding a bouquet of marigolds in a cemetery for Dia de los Muertos. I will cherish it always ❤️

When you’re a photographer but your significant other is definitely notttt 😂😂😂

A blurry untouched iPhone photo of King David climbing the back of a cliff in Polperro, England, because life on the road is full on. We’re driving around Scotland now and it’s a total DREAM come true. It’s cold and wet and foggy and we don’t have any rain gear (like not even an umbrella because we’re stubborn), but I’m still totally and completely in love with Scotland. There’s so much to see and not enough time so I’m already anticipating our next trip. This day with @rambleonoriginal was also magical. I love GB a whole lot ❤️

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