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You want to be present. You want to be seen. And you want photos that make you feel something when you look back.
Same. That’s why I’m here.
I picked up a camera when I was 15 because I was obsessed with love and needed an outlet for my feelings (Leo sun, Cancer moon — you get it). I didn’t set out to become a “wedding photographer.” I just wanted to document the stuff that makes life feel like a movie.
Fast forward a few years, and I’ve photographed couples from coast to coast and across Europe — people who trust me not just to capture their wedding, but to see the soul of it. The glances. The gut laughs. The “oh shit, this is really happening” kind of moments.
I’ll show up like the honorary bridesmaid you didn’t know you needed: holding space, wrangling your cousin, calming your nerves, and somehow catching that exact moment your partner looked at you like no one else existed. My style is cinematic and nostalgic, but never performative. I won’t pose you like you’re in a toothpaste commercial. I will, however, notice the way your hand shakes a little when you read your vows. The forehead kiss after the ceremony. The messy, sacred, in-between stuff.
I cry at good vows and better voice notes. I romanticize literally everything, from grocery runs to glances across a crowded room. I’ve been known to do full drag in my bathroom at 3 a.m. just to feel something, and my golden retriever Poe is basically my emotional support soulmate. I live for Trader Joe’s flowers, slow mornings, loud music, and impulsive plane tickets, especially if they lead to Spain. And if you tell me your love story? I will mentally storyboard it like an indie short film. It’s a problem. But also… it’s kind of the whole point?