My mom handed me a disposable camera. Six years old and we were headed to the Oregon coast.
I remember it so well — I remember making sand candles and the Tillamook Cheese Factory, kites flying and sitting on a futon in our beach cottage. I look at the photographs, and I remember. I’m reminded.
Photographs are not just story tellers, they are memory keepers.
I think these young memories are what started my deep desire to savor what I find to be special, and to lean into what seems authentic to me. In honesty, I’m helpless to ignore the urge to pause the times that seem to be slipping away too soon. If you’re like me, it’s hard for you to let go of the best days. The days the sun shines in through the windows for the first time in so long, smiling faces surrounding one candle lit on your best friends birthday, laying on the floor with your love on a Saturday. Sometimes simple, sometimes out of the ordinary. I think this is why I asked for cameras — little memory keepers, time pause-rs - every chance I could.
I’d say this is my greatest strength as a photographer — documenting things honestly and authentically. Never hijacking a moment, letting it all be what it is. Never overlooking the familiar and simple, but realizing those little bits are what we come back to time and time again. They’re what we relate to and find the most significance in.
As a photographer, I’m not the one who will keep you from your friends and family on your wedding day. I’m no good at the Instagram/Pinterest frenzy. I’ve got no desire to control your day, or push you to do something that makes you feel awkward and uncomfortable. My best shot at doing my job well and us being a good fit, is if you’re someone who sees value in the sweet and subtle, what goes on in-between the big stuff. If you want your photographs to feel true and just how it felt, I believe I could be a wonderful fit for what you’re looking for.
