I always wanted to be a photographer, but to be honest I never thought I’d get into wedding photography; I thought I wanted to ‘make a difference,’ to shoot Big Important Things like war and climate change.
When I started shooting couples and weddings, and I had a sort of epiphany while looking at digitized photographs from my grandfather’s life. Among the thousands of film images and stereo slides are their wedding photos, and even some precious 16mm film of the day. When I looked at those photos, I saw their excitement and joy, their youth, their love. But at the same time, somehow, I also saw their whole life unfolding before them — their travels and jobs, their six kids and forty-seven years of marriage.
Worcester, MA | 1947
I never knew my grandmother — she passed away at 68, after a six year battle with cancer — and my grandfather left us in February 2020, at 94. But their wedding photos gave me a glimpse into who she was, and who they were together, and how it all began.
It hit me like a wave: being a photographer doesn’t have to mean making the biggest impact for the most people; making an impact on one family is enough. There's something incredible about the fact that my work has the potential to outlive me — to be shared, to be passed on, to be loved for generations.
I fell in love with photographing weddings because when I look at my family’s photos, I see all the life that came from their union — the Everything —superimposed on the images. As your wedding photographer, I’m here to preserve your memories the same way, so that one day your grandkids can look at the photos and see themselves in them, too.