I Did It

My friend and I are amateur photographers. He took pictures when I got married at the courthouse, fourteen years ago. He's come such a long way since then...his landscapes are incredible. So, when he set his wedding date to marry his high school sweetheart, I knew I wanted to take pictures. I told him of my intent, and he agreed. However, he also asked his dad to take pictures. His father had taken a turn as a professional portrait photographer in the past, so I totally understood his decision. My friend told his dad that I would be taking pictures, too (I didn't know that I would be actually photographing the event as a photographer, rather than just a participant in the wedding!), and since his dad likes to call the shots, he quickly told me he was going to "use" me.

I had a problem with that. I didn't want to be used. I didn't want to be told what to shoot, how to shoot it (other than friendly suggestions for f-stop settings and the like), where to stand, or anything along those lines. I wanted to shoot a limited amount of posed shots, and a whole bunch of capturing the feel, the memories...you know, the history of the day! My friend assured me that what he and his bride wanted were candids, and that I would be doing what they and I wished.

To say I was nervous was a huge understatement. Despite my desire to be a "real" photographer, I really am just someone who enjoys capturing life. I have a lot to learn. I worried endlessly that I would miss critical shots, that in the midst of the chaos, I would forget settings, that my battery would die prematurely, you name it. Then the bride asked if I would take pictures of the girls getting ready. Perfect! I had time to loosen up before the big event, and time to get comfortable before I would have to work beside my friend's dad.

I arrived at the house, sweating and shaking, matching the bride's nervousness, I'm sure. I began shooting immediately--the bride greeting me from the front steps--and I felt better. I could do this.

I remained on edge, but more confident, until we finally arrived by limo at the wedding venue. Right away, the groom's dad asked how I was doing and told me what he expected of me. I acknowledged him and went about my business. I tried to steer clear of him as much as possible--that way, he was doing what he wished, and I was doing what I wished. I quickly realized when it was time for the ceremony, that my friend's dad intended to be "the" photographer for the event. He would literally stand right in front of me to get a shot, sometimes even moving in front of me when I was focusing. I let it go, and shot from another perspective. Later, I invited my husband (also a lover of digital photography) to take a few shots. I ended the day enjoying the reception a little, making the rounds, tired, and with an achy wrist (stupid carpal tunnel).

Fast forward two weeks. I quickly posted my favorite pictures on Facebook, and tagged the bride and groom. They started "liking" them right away, and I knew I had done my job. A few days later, I looked at the pictures again--the expressions I captured, the innocence of the flower girl, the emotion of the couple's faces. I caught those things, and recorded them. Sure, a few pictures could probably use a little post-processing (something I am not fond of), but for the most part, they have a pretty good collection of 600 seconds throughout the day. 600 memories that will make them smile for years to come. And as others comment on Facebook, I see that they feel the same way--I did my job.