YOU
IT'S NICE TO MEET
If I'm being totally honest (and I am because we're friends now), I never wanted to photograph weddings. Or people in a portrait sense at all, really.
I got my first camera when I was seventeen. Once I moved to college I quickly became a nightlife photographer (you know what I'm talking about— the kind that takes drunk, sweaty photos of you in that one bar). It was a horrible job with shitty pay but there are silver linings in all things and sometimes those silver linings are free beer.
I enjoyed the documentary side of it all, the it's-okay-if-you-missed-it-because-I-photographed-literally-every-moment kind of thing.
It wasn’t until some friends asked me to photograph them that things began to click for me. I realized that my photos didn’t have to look like everyone else’s and that there wasn’t a one size fits all formula for photographing people. It was then I realized that a documentary approach blended with honest human connection, a real human story, was powerful.
That changed everything for me and I haven’t looked back since.
RALEIGH, NC BASED WEDDING PHOTOGRAPHER & traveling the east coast FOR LOVE
WHEN I’M NOT WORKING, YOU CAN FIND ME
PLANNING MY NEXT TRIP WITH MY WIFE, INGRID, SPOILING OUR TWO RESCUE DOGS, OR MAPPING OUT THE NEXT PROJECT ON OUR 1970’S FIXER.
For most of my life, they were my absolute favorite people in the world. They couldn’t have been more different from each other. He was a foul-mouthed Marine from Michigan, a red-blooded American, a steak and potatoes kind of guy that could’ve single handedly kept PBR in business for decades. She was endlessly nurturing, barely spoke English, religiously watched WWE’s Monday Night Raw (me too), and spent so much time in the kitchen — often cooking two meals, one for him and one that reminded her of home. Food was her love language.
THESE ARE MY GRANDPARENTS
01/05
continue reading
Their love didn’t make sense but it didn’t have to. They lived all over the states and in Okinawa (a few times), raised four kids, and also raised me. Even when my Grandpa was a stubborn ass (99% of the time), she’d complain under her breath but still look at him with loving eyes. Even when his brain started to deteriorate, he would still call her his sunshine.
Their love didn’t make sense but it didn’t have to
02/05
continue reading
They are no longer with me and I miss them every day. When I see these photos, I see undeniable proof that they were real, that their love was real. I remember the smell of her cooking and his musty man cave in the backyard. I remember being woken up at four in the morning to go over my homework before school. I remember being taught how to play poker and knowing how to bluff before my seventh birthday. I remember my mom being mad about it.
their love was real
03/05
continue reading
I remember being a dumb teenager and feeling like hanging out with grandparents wasn’t very cool (boy, was I wrong). I remember hospital trips and health scares. I remember spiraling out in nursing home lobbies and my grandma’s last words to me, “don’t cry, Mady”, that even on her last day she cared for others first. I remember the phone calls to tell me dreaded news that I already knew in my heart.
always remember
04/05
continue reading
back to the beginning
Photos are a reminder of all we've felt; a visual momento to prove that we existed and that we loved and were loved in return. They are a vehicle of nostalgia and can transport you to a time and place, surrounded by ones you love, even if you haven't seen them in a long while.
A legacy.
a legacy
05/05
New york city
Connecticut
Highlands, NC
Blowing Rock
Charleston
Washington, DC
Asheville, NC
Newport, RI
Wisconsin
Upcoming travel
Let's meet up
