Today we’d like to introduce you to Merri Haren.
Hi Merri, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
I’ve been taking pictures since my little fingers could stretch from the body to the shutter button on my dad’s Kodak point-and-shoot; The kind with the dramatic pop-up flash. Small beans back then, but ironically making a comeback now in the old Hollywood black-and-white event world. I didn’t know what I was doing out there on the road with my dad and our cameras. But I knew I wanted to stop time with him- just long enough to study it. To make something through my lens that would prove all those drives weren’t just passing scenery. They mattered.
By the time I was 20, I’d lived in over 30 places. Not a typo. Some people have a hometown; I had a duffel bag and a mental Rolodex of landscapes- desert highways where night skies looked like someone punched holes in black paper; humid marshes under gnarled oaks; the swirling spine of the Blue Ridge; prairie roads so blank they turned my brain into a movie projector. And still, I loved the view. Because I realized early on: a car full of people can stare out the same windows and walk away with entirely different stories. That contradiction and layered truth became the backbone of everything I create.
Anyone can take a nice photo. (God, I hate that word- nice. It’s a nothing-burger. Polite enough to avoid criticism, forgettable enough to be safe.) With the right gear, a few YouTube videos, and a patient model, sure- you can make something that looks nice. I’ve chased that precision too. I was obsessed. I learned manual on every camera I could get my hands on. Threw my early work into critique forums that tore it to shreds. Paid to learn from people who’d built empires with a shutter. But what I’m chasing now is messier. More human. Less “perfect,” more true.
I want the ornery and ill-timed crooked-tooth grin when no one else was looking. I want the photo you find ten years from now that makes your chest ache in that soft, haunted way. The one that smells like your grandmother’s perfume. Or the wildflowers your neighbor cut for your wedding, still fresh in your memory because they did it out of love.
That’s what I chase. And I’m still learning how to catch it.
I wouldn’t call myself a master. But I’m a hell of a noticer. Especially of the moments that don’t make it onto Pinterest boards. The ones that are unmistakably yours because they could never belong to anyone else.
If you feel something when you look at my work, then maybe I did something right. And if you don’t? Hey, the lighting was probably solid.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Smooth? Not a chance. And frankly, I’d be suspicious if it were.
The best stories come from spontaneous trips, wrong turns, one-lane bridges into other countries (yes, really), and those moments when someone I love is yelling, “Why the hell did I agree to this?” Don’t worry- they always come around. And if they’re reading this, I know they’re smiling. Probably nursing a scar from it, too.
The rough stuff? It’s there. I’ve had things stolen- equipment, work, time. I’ve worked for too little, I’ve worked for free. I have ignored my instincts at my own peril because I listened to people who didn’t listen to me. I’ve watched success in my business rise while my personal life fell apart. I’ve been threatened, manipulated, underestimated. But I’ve also outlasted every one of those moments. Call it grit. Call it spite. Call it survival. Whatever it is, it’s mine.
There’s an idea I stumbled upon years ago, and I can’t quite remember its exact phrasing, but it has always helped me in times of self-doubt and exhaustion:
“Fear versus hope- it’s hardly an even match. You think of hope as something light and fragile. My version of hope has calluses and dirt under the fingernails and isn’t past bringing brass knuckles to a fight.”
So I kept going. I learned how to build a business from the ground up while raising kids, fixing houses, navigating grief, and remembering how to laugh. I juggled art and invoices, joy and deadlines, exhaustion and wild gratitude- because I get to do this. That never stops being magic.
The real work isn’t just pressing a shutter. It’s choosing softness in a world that keeps trying to make you hard. It’s telling the truth through your art and hoping that, somewhere out there, someone sees it and feels a little less alone.
So no, it hasn’t been smooth. But it’s been real, and it’s been mine. And I’ll take real over easy, every damn time.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about Clover & Bloom Photography?
Clover & Bloom Photo isn’t just a photography business- it’s a deeply intentional practice. It’s built on connection, trust, and the belief that every person deserves to be seen in their best light, literally and metaphorically.
I specialize in portraiture, brand storytelling, and weddings- with a particular soft spot for the in-between moments most people overlook. The sideways glance. The quiet laugh. The way someone reaches for the person they love when no one’s watching. I’m known for capturing the kind of images that make you feel something. The ones that take you right back to the way it felt, not just the way it looked.
People come to me when they want photography that’s authentic, artful, and emotionally intelligent. I’m not here to over-pose you or churn out trendy, forgettable images. I’m here to see you- and to help you see you. My work is a collaboration. A conversation. A chance to create something that’s honest and lasting, not just “Pinterest cute.”
What sets me apart? I bring the whole of myself into every shoot- my intuition, my creative instincts, my ability to make people feel safe enough to show up as themselves. I’m not afraid to get weird, go deep, or laugh too hard on set. I don’t need perfect conditions. I need real humans and honest light.
Brand-wise, I’m most proud of the loyalty I’ve built with my clients. Many have become lifelong friends. They trust me with their biggest moments, their vulnerable transitions, their rebrands, their families, their stories. That’s not something I take lightly.
I also offer creative direction, brand photography, and curated content packages for small business owners- especially women, creatives, and folks building something from scratch. I know what that hustle feels like. I’ve lived it.
If I could tell your readers one thing about my brand, it’s this: I create spaces- through my lens- where people can show up exactly as they are and be seen, celebrated, and remembered. Not just for how they looked, but for who they were in that moment.
Because the truth is, we don’t get to keep most of the things we think we will. But we can hold onto a feeling. A flicker of light. A photograph that you can feel. That’s what I do. And I’d be honored to do it for you.
Let’s talk about our city – what do you love? What do you not love?
What I love most about Canton is its contradictions. Some days it’s a quiet refuge- slow trains, old brick, the kind of silence that lets memory drift in. Other days, it crackles with potential, like something’s about to bloom between the sidewalk cracks. This city has always had what it takes. The steel, the stories, the parades. Speakeasies hidden in alleyways. Friday nights at Kennedy’s with ribs wrapped in butcher paper, heat vibrating off the asphalt in July, and an ice-cold float from Woody’s. There’s a rhythm here that lives in your bones whether you want it to or not.
My roots are buried deep in that rhythm. My great-grandparents were high school sweethearts. She became a seamstress, then a legal secretary. He built their Sears kit home on a sloping corner lot on Gilbert Avenue before shipping off to Iwo Jima. When he came home, he worked above the blast furnaces at Republic Steel as an electrician. When my dad asked how he kept his wits about him working over molten steel with live wires, he’d say, “The idea is not to get excited.” That little reminder became family gospel- stay calm when it’s hardest. That’s how you make it through.
On St. Patrick’s Day, 1989- just a week after his second great-granddaughter (my sister Elizabeth) was born- he passed away at the Hideaway Grill, across the street from the mill, after toasting to the comrades he lost on the island all those years ago. It was 44 years to the day since he’d been medevaced out of combat. That kind of symmetry doesn’t happen everywhere. But Canton knows how to hold a story tight and let it echo. Hoover. Aultman. McKinley. If you’re from here, those names don’t just ring a bell- they bring something up in your chest. And we have a lot of those.
What I like least? There’s still a disconnect between the big decisions and the quiet work of real people. Projects rise with fanfare while potholes deepen. Theories swirl- because when people feel left out of the conversation, they learn to read between the lines. And they’ve had to for a long time.
But the beauty of this place has never lived in boardrooms. It lives in corner booths and side streets, in the hands of the people who stay because they love it too much to walk away. The ones who plant flowers where buildings once stood. Who pass down recipes, and kindness, and time.
I’m raising my children here. I’m building businesses through connections I’ve forged and nurtured right here. And whether I’m behind the lens or behind the scenes, I’ll keep showing up. Because Canton’s not perfect- but it remembers, it rebuilds, and it’s always been worth showing up for.
Pricing:
- Our projects are tailored to the client, but our clients know they are investing in a partner they trust to see their vision and after a smooth and inclusive onboarding, require little to nothing from them to get the job done.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://linktr.ee/CloverAndBloom
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cloverandbloomphoto and @YouSpelledMyNameWrong
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cloverandbloomphotography
- Yelp: https://www.yelp.com/biz/clover-and-bloom-photography-cleveland
- Other: https://www.pinterest.com/cloverandbloomphoto/



