December 05, 2011

in jars.

I work with wedding photographers in my night job, and I falling in love with them! i love the romance of what they do, trying to make all those fleeting lovely moments less fleeting. i just came across this post by one of my F A V O R I T E S michelle gardella. it's incredible writing, and great story telling, and just makes you feel how much she loves love. if you are getting married, she is the first person you should call. and that's my personal + a tiny bit of professional opinion. 

Can I make you look pretty? Sure. Will I act awkward and ridiculous just to see how your eyes wrinkle when you laugh. Definitely. But I promise you that there is something so much bigger behind my love of photography than landing my work on the cover of some materialistic idealistic magazine. If my pictures were never featured on another blog or magazine or facebook page I would still always be looking at the world desperate to collect certain brilliant moments in jars. Lightening bugs. Even if I was the very last person on an island, and I didn’t have a camera anywhere near me, my heart would be taking pictures all over the place. The shapes left in the sand by ants. The moon. The emptiness. The space where you once were.
When inquiring couples write to me and ask about my pricing and collections and we meet over tea and and joke about sports and miniature poodles, all I really want to do is ask them if they’ve ever stayed up to see a sunrise together,  or if he’s ever sung her favorite song just to make her cheer up after a long drive home stuck in traffic. Those are the things that make my heart sing. Those are the moments that keep me closing and opening my shutter, over and over again.
A few nights ago we were having a consultation with new clients and without saying a word, the groom automatically switched forks with the bride when he noticed that hers had a small something on it. The world kept spinning. The restaurant kept buzzing. Thomas motioned to a baseball game on the screen and said something and everyone at the table laughed. But the stirring in my heart was there. The knowing that those moments, as quiet and fleeting as they are, those are the only moments that matter.
Love lives. Despite everything and everyone that wants us to believe otherwise. It lives. And I guess my love of taking pictures comes from a place of wanting to show proof. “Look! Look!” I want to scream as I wave my images in the air. “Look at how beautiful it is. To be alive.”

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