There is a particular quality to moments that unfold without interruption. A glance that lingers, a pause before laughter fills the room, the quiet shift in atmosphere as the day moves forward. These in-between moments often pass unnoticed, yet they are the ones that shape how a wedding is remembered.

Long before weddings, film photography taught me to slow down and to look carefully. To notice light as it changes and people as they move through space together. That way of seeing still guides my work.

When I accompany a wedding, I move gently through the day, staying close without intruding. What matters to me is awareness: of light, of rhythm, of the subtle relationships between people. Knowing when to step in, and more importantly, when to step back.

This approach creates room for people to remain fully themselves. To move freely, to forget the camera and to stay connected to what is unfolding around them. The photographs that result are not about perfection or spectacle. They are about continuity. Images meant to be returned to years later, carrying with them not only what happened, but how it felt and why it mattered.