"The photographs are about the wedding. The wedding is not about the photographs." - John Dolan
Over the past six to seven years of documented weddings, I've come to notice a few things. A great wedding is a great wedding because of the people it is filled with. That alone—who’s there, how they show up, the love they bring—makes all the difference. That is what makes a really, really good wedding. The moments I hold onto most tightly are the ones that unfold naturally. Not staged, not curated—just happening. A parent’s quiet tears, a friend’s uncontainable laughter, a glance that says everything. These are the gifts I get to witness. No two weddings are alike, and that’s what makes this work so meaningful. Each one tells a different story. And I’m endlessly grateful to be invited into those stories, to preserve the pieces that will someday be held in someone’s hands and remembered.
I take on just ten weddings each year—a smaller number than in years past, but one that allows me to show up fully present, rested, and genuinely excited for each celebration.
Weddings are more than just an event. They’re a rare and sacred kind of reunion. A gathering of the people who’ve shaped you, supported you, loved you. It’s the only time, maybe ever, that they’ll all be in the same room.
That’s what I’m there to photograph.
I cherish my parents’ wedding photos deeply. Not because they’re technically perfect or beautifully posed, but because they feel like them. There’s movement, emotion, a little blur, and a lot of love. You can see who they were in that moment—young, in love, surrounded by people who mattered.
Those photos have outlived trends and styling choices. But What remains is connection.
I don’t approach the day as a fly on the wall, or as someone calling the shots. Instead, I arrive as a guest with a camera—welcomed into your story, not separate from it. I want to walk into the day knowing who you are, what matters to you, and the people you’ve chosen to surround yourselves with.
That connection is what allows me to photograph your wedding in a way that feels honest—like it looked, but more importantly, like it felt.
The truth is, the most meaningful photographs come from people who aren’t afraid to live fully in the moment. To laugh without restraint. To cry in the middle of a crowded room. To grab the hand of someone they love and pull them into a dance.
When you show up—like really show up—something shifts. The atmosphere feels different. The room feels warmer. And everyone knows it. The photographs become more than just documentation. They become memory.
This work is a collaboration. I bring my eye, my intuition, and my heart—but what makes an image is you being unapologetically yourself. Your openness is the key. And when that happens, we create something that lasts.
Because in the end, it’s not about chasing perfection. It’s about presence.
Twenty years from now, when the wedding is over, what do you want to remember?
