2012. A look back.


It’d be a travesty to think that this post accurately represents this year. I promise that these photographs barely scratch the surface; I wish I could’ve done far more, far greater. To the couples that flew me around the world, you’ll never know what an honor it was to be invited to your weddings. Truly. I made stops in Chico, San Francisco, San Luis Obispo, Monroe OR, Portland OR, Seattle WA, Montana, New York, Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, New Zealand and in a few weeks I’ll be back in New York to document the disaster from Hurricane Sandy. I feel genuinely lucky to say I love what I do.  If you’ve read this, thank you, I love you.

The following images are in no particular order.

Deep in the Oregon woods, unfathomable serenity, a lumber mill, and two lovely souls.

Let’s go back. I met Tiffany in a tiny house in the middle of the desert. It was her sister, Kim’s, wedding and I was lucky enough to photograph that as well. It’s apparent that these guys understand what weddings are for, and why they’re of such monumental importance. I can’t explain what it is with this group of people; they just get it. When Tiffany & Tom reached out to me about their wedding, I knew it was going to be real special; I didn’t know it was going to be an experience, an emotion, a glimpse into love that that inspires. I’ve sat down and tried to write this a few times and I’ve yet to find my words adequate of what this day means to me. I’ve hovered over “post” and scrapped the whole thing more than a few times, upset at myself for not being able to accurately re-tell this story. I’ve arrived at the realization that this post isn’t for you, the blog reader. This isn’t for the future inquiring bride or the casual idea grabber. No. This post is for me. This post is for Tiffany and Tom. This post is for the people that shared this day with us. You are the only ones that will be taken back, thrust back to what you felt that day under the freeway in Seattle.
Tom. Tiffany. The way you look at each-other is the most beautiful thing you have. That’s what matters on this giant ball of dirt. My only hope is that through these images, we can be taken back. Let’s go back.
It should also be noted that this photographic documentation would not have been possible without Chantal, she came out to help me tell this story and some of these images are hers. Chantal, thank you.