After 15 years and more than 300 weddings, I've learned that experience isn't measured by how many weddings went exactly to plan. It's measured by how you show up when they don't.

I've photographed weddings through the Calgary floods, worked destination weddings with food poisoning (3 times... yes, really), hobbled through a 12-hour wedding on a sprained ankle and navigated an Iceland wedding where the weather and the drive to the venue was absolutely wild. I've photographed ceremonies in hail, watched golf course sprinklers go off in the middle of a ceremony and learned that timelines rarely unfold exactly as planned.

Some of the most important moments I've been part of had nothing to do with my camera. They were the moments I put it down to hug a bride, hold a mother's hand or simply be there for someone who needed another human more than another photograph.

Losing my own mom in 2024 changed the way I photograph weddings. It reminded me just how rare it is to have everyone you love in one room and I don't take that for granted anymore.

I've learned not to fear the unexpected. Sometimes a little chaos has a funny way of reminding everyone what the day is really about. Years later, it's usually those moments //the hailstorm, the sprinklers, the rain-soaked hugs // that become the stories everyone laughs about around the dinner table.