We got married on 29 February 2024. The photographs took almost a year to arrive. In that year I learnt something no workshop teaches: the value of a photograph is not decided on the day it is taken. It is decided on the day you go looking for it and it isn't there.
The gap between a picture and a memory
A picture is a file. A memory is what the file unlocks — the weather, the noise of the room, the person who is no longer at the table. When I shoot now, I am not composing for the frame alone. I am composing for the version of you who opens this gallery in 2046.
Moments disappear. Memories don't have to.
What changed in practice
- Delivery dates are contractual, not aspirational — previews within 72 hours, full galleries on a fixed calendar date.
- Every card is mirrored on set, then held in three copies across two locations for five years.
- I photograph the in-between: the grandmother adjusting a garland, the friend crying at the back of the room.
- Colour is graded to age well. Trends date; skin tones don't.
If you take one thing from this: ask your photographer when your gallery arrives, and get the answer in writing. It is the least romantic question you will ask, and the one you will be most grateful for.
PersonalWeddingsPhilosophy
