When I’m not photographing weddings, you’ll probably find me wandering through a bookstore, planning my next trip abroad, or rewatching a favorite film (dirty dancing) with my dog curled up nearby. I collect words the way others collect souvenirs—marked-up paperbacks, old postcards, beautiful turns of phrase. They remind me to slow down and notice.
Travel deeply shapes how I see the world. A quiet morning in the blue ridge mountains, the color of dusk in Iceland, the sound of laughter drifting through an outdoor market—these textures stay with me. They inform how I tell your story, helping me see each couple with curiosity and fresh perspective.
Photography has never just been about the images — it’s always been about preservation. A way to hold onto fleeting moments, to see and be seen. What began as a quiet fascination became second nature to me, like learning a language built on light, emotion, and memory.
I approach my work the way I approach life: with curiosity, intention, and a deep appreciation for the beauty in the in-between. My lens is drawn to quiet gestures, the pause in a glance, the way light and shadow create their own narrative. Every frame is more than a photograph — it’s a reflection of where I’ve been, how I see the world, and the emotion I feel in the presence of real connection.
An intimate wedding isn’t about having less—it’s about having more. More presence. More meaning. More room to celebrate in a way that feels true to you. I approach photography with that same mindset—balancing raw emotion with quiet refinement, and artistry with authenticity.
I don’t stage moments; I let them unfold. Using a mix of digital and film photography, I blend softness with structure to create imagery that feels both cinematic and honest. No stiff poses. No forced smiles. Just you, fully present, fully yourself. Because the most beautiful stories aren’t created—they’re witnessed.