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The heartwood of a tree—its innermost, oldest, and strongest core—forms slowly over time. Though no longer alive in the usual sense, the way heartwood comes into being remains something of a mystery. Often called the soul of the tree, it is the unseen strength within, holding everything together and supporting the tree’s entire life from the inside out.

 

For me, the creation of a photograph—beyond its technical aspects—holds a quiet mystery. It invites us to hold space, both for ourselves and for others. Whether I’m documenting family stories and legacy portraits, or curating fine art and learning experiences for healthcare and community settings, I approach each project with a calm presence, grounded awareness, and deep care. (The word "curate," now commonly used to mean selecting and presenting content, originally referred to the act of caring for something—an idea that still guides my work.)

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I’m Melissa Blythe Knowles—photographer, teacher, curator, and arts-in-health consultant with training as an end-of-life doula. Originally from England and now based on Martha’s Vineyard, I collaborate with nonprofits, healthcare providers, and schools both locally and beyond. My work has appeared in galleries, books, media, advocacy campaigns, educational resources, private collections, and healing spaces.

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Heartwood Studio is inspired by my late partner, Geordie Gude, who showed me that photography, like life, is ultimately about holding space for the fullness of someone’s experience, and by my late mentor, Dr. John Diamond, M.D.—a physician and pioneer in holistic healing and creativity.

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Before Geordie died, he gave me a card with a picture of the two of us at the heartwood of a tree, and a note inside that I treasure. This illustration—and what it symbolized—became the seed for this studio.

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Like heartwood—formed from what once lived fully—Geordie remains part of my core. Not gone, but changed, and an enduring force for good in my life.​​​

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Loving and caring for Geordie—through our time together and especially at the end of his life—taught me this in the most personal way. Later, through my training as an end-of-life doula, that understanding deepened. I’ve come to see that simply being present with someone during times of transition or loss is a quiet, profound expression of love and healing.

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It’s not about fixing or finding answers. It’s not about doing, but about being—truly being with someone. Meeting them where they are and from that place of acceptance, gently moving forward together—with compassion, and care.

 

Geordie sang and played the harmonica with a rare sensitivity and depth—I imagine he still does because his final days were filled with his musicand showed me that when we open our hearts to truly listen, we create space for love to grow, even in the smallest moments

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Growth like this is mysterious. It doesn’t move in only one direction. Like the rings of a tree, it expands upward, downward, inward, and outward—all from deep within. The strongest trees aren’t the ones that grow the fastest, but those that develop slowly in the shadows—beneath the canopy—quietly deepening their roots, strengthening their core, and enduring.

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Heartwood Studio isn’t just a name or a service; it’s a philosophy. An extension of presence. A quiet way of saying: I see you. You matter. This is worth remembering. Like the heartwood of a tree, my photographs are gentle in approach, giving strength to where love lives—in the small, often unnoticed moments. And hopefully, for you, they hold the heart.

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Services
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Family Stories

My joie de vivre lies in photographing families, sensitively and beautifully reflecting those fleeting moments in your lives. I offer family, engagement, and small wedding packages, along with cost-sensitive options for locals.

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During our sessions, I will gently guide you through natural and relaxed poses, meeting you where you are and creating an atmosphere that encourages authentic connections and emotions to flourish. I sincerely hope you leave our session feeling more connected to those you hold dear and to provide lasting memories that deepen your connection long after our time together.

Visual Storytelling

"Storytellers are the custodians of human history, the recorders of the human experience, the voice of the human soul."

 

As a visual storyteller, I keep my eyes open to, not to simply record or replicate an event exactly, but to find the core of the experience and give form to those moments of the human experience.

 

My projects with local media, non-profits, magazines, and cause-driven efforts include arts for healing, ending child labor, documenting human rights marches, ensuring food equity and housing security, and championing conservation, creativity, and education.

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Legacy Portraits

After my beloved Geordie died, I began searching through my photo archives for pictures of him, bringing him and the feeling of us closer to me. During our time together, I learned not only the technical aspects of portrait photography but more importantly the deeper act of truly seeing him—and, in turn, being seen by him. Each time I found, adjusted, and printed a photo of Geordie, I discovered a window into the love we shared, and at times, to literally see myself through his eyes. These photographs are more than memories; they are living connections. They continue to help me cherish him and bring comfort and continuity to the people who loved him most.

 

Now, I offer this same kind of connection to others. I partner with nonprofits that support families navigating illness and hospice care, offering portraits that hold space for life, love, and what matters to you. These photographs are not just images—they’re a way of honoring presence, of holding onto the feeling of someone, and of creating something that can be returned to again and again. 

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First Aid Fine Art 

During my partner’s illness, I'd bring nature photos into Dana Farber with us, reminders of beauty and the natural rhythms of life. I started sharing them with our care team, and they became expressions of gratitude that sometimes there were little words for. Each hospital visit, we'd choose a treatment room with a large window, where we could see this one tree - it's so clear in my mind still. When Geordie entered hospice, we'd walk to the cliffs that our home sits atop of. The last time we did this, him holding my waist tightly, a red tail hawk flew across our path. "You're ready to take to wing," I said. When he was too weak to walk to the cliffs, he opened our bedroom door which led to the garden, and he'd take his shoes off to stand barefoot in the grass, and say, "I belong to the earth." These were among his last few days, but he was always a man who belonged to the earth. There's a line in a song, "I've been tamed by the wind and the rain," and that was always Geordie. 

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In our bedroom, I placed every nature photo I'd printed around us - bringing the outside inside - recreating what I imagine the Paleolithic caves were - a healing place created through artwork reminding us of where we come from and where we're returning to. If you or someone you love are ill or are in hospice and would like to bring the outside inside through a curated selection of small fine art prints, please reach out. â€‹

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Exhibits, Education &Creative Care

Creativity is one of the often overlooked dimensions of our health and wellbeing, yet has a long history of supporting emotional and physical health, and of transforming spaces to encourage healing and connection. In this way, I bring the visual arts and humanities into community, educational, and healthcare settings through thoughtfully designed workshops, exhibits, and creative experiences.

©2024 Melissa Blythe Knowles

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