It’s not the dress or the shoes. It’s not the bride or the groom. It’s not a processional, recessional, this thing, that thing, any one thing. I do not want to make pictures of weddings. I want to make pictures of us, as who we are. As human beings. I want to forget the to-dos, forget the industry, forget the laundry list of flash frozen images that the world throws at us each day from the moment we become engaged. The perfect bride. The perfect groom. The perfect day. I want to forget these things. It’s the imperfections I love.

It’s not the weddings I like…

It’s the people. It’s the arch of a back, the curve of a smile. It’s the way we move through space and time, that need, that burning need to celebrate and externalize that thing inside we feel, but can never fully show. This is beauty. It’s the way we look at one another. The contact. The sweat. The hugs. The noise – that pounding, pulsing, rhythm as we move and collide and reach and grab. It’s the light, cutting through us, the energy, the swishing and swirling beauty of illumination. The clarity. The mess. The gloopy, gloppy, gooey, oozy mess that is people moving all in unison, completely apart. It is us, for the people we are and the people we were. The weight of the world and the levity of spirit, all colliding at once. Working our way through it. That space. That time. All of it, fading, fading, fading, until there are only the dimmest visions floating free in our mind…each one, a perfectly imperfect day…a dream…