WHAT TO EXPECT
There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names. There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names.There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names. There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names. There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names. There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through
the process of what it's like to shoot with me!
01. FILL OUT THE FORM
02. making the plan
03. PICTURE TIME
04. DELIVERING PHOTOS
Start by filling out the form so I can learn a bit about what you've been dreaming up for your session!
We'll plan your session details together, then secure your date with a signed contract and deposit.
Your edited photos are delivered to your email in a beautiful online gallery. Turnaround is typically 2-3 weeks for sessions during the quieter months, and may take a little longer during peak seasons (summer + fall).
It's picture time - we'll meet up, hang out, have fun and create some magic together!
WHAT TO EXPECT
There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names. There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names.There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names. There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names. There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through wonder, to live before everything had names. There’s a strange kind of magic in old photographs — they capture not just moments, but feelings suspended in time. A faded Polaroid, a sun-washed print, they hold the echoes of laughter in backyards, the soft light of late afternoons, the wild freedom of childhood. In their grain and their blur, there's something more honest than perfection: the truth of a moment now gone. Looking at them is like holding hands with the past — not to change it, but to remember how it felt to be small, to see the world through
the process of what it's like to shoot with me!
01. FILL OUT THE FORM
02. CALL OR MEET UP
03. PICTURE TIME
04. DELIVERING PHOTOS
Start by filling out the form so I can learn a bit about what you've been dreaming up for your session!
We'll plan your session details together, then secure your date with a signed contract and deposit.
Your edited photos are delivered to your email in a beautiful online gallery. Turnaround time is typically 2-3 weeks for sessions during the quieter months, and may take a little little longer during the peak seasons (summer + fall).
It's picture time - we'll meet up, hang out, have fun and create some magic together!
