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A s we made our way to Napa, JD sounded like a skipping CD. LookAtThat...LookAtThat...LookAtThat! It was the first time we've visited this part of Northern California and to say we were impressed would be an understatement. The acres of vineyards, the wineries, the large stretch of monochromatic foliage. Everything. Was breathtaking.
What made extra everything beautiful was the fact that we were visiting as wedding guests. Together along with about 75 other people, we celebrated Jeff Norwood and Jessica Claire's wedding, and the day could not be more perfect. Just before the ceremony began, JD leaned over and said, I love weddings. Just like that. With a period, not an exclamation point. He grabbed my hand and as Jess walked down the aisle, Jeff cried big, happy tears.
I can't wait to see the official wedding pictures (taken by the ever fab Jose Villa) as I know they'll capture the opulence of the perfect day. And because every post is better with a photo, here's one of me and JD. I asked/made him pull to the side of the road for a tacky tourist moment. Don't hate. |
    
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Manhattan Beach Engagement Photos : Erica + Brian
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It's just kinda what we do...I think it could be really bad, then flashed a knowing smile. Erica tried explaining the love affair she and Brian share with life's sweet blessings, namely ice cream. Scoops, bowls, a pint. They share it and enjoy the delectable remnants of sugar that somehow remain in the small crevices lips are so prone to have. Erica ordered a cookies&cream milkshake and explained their penchant for sweets as a lifestyle, asking the boy behind the counter for two straws before settling in an ornate chair at Manhattan Beach Creamery.
Just one block away from the Creamery rests The Shellback, a local hangout for beach professionals and life-lovers, which proved to be a place where Erica and Brian's lives changed. They knew each other at UC Santa Barbara, both undergrads who shared friends in similar collegiate circles. They were friends from a slight distance, but not too long after graduation, their paths crossed again at The Shellback. There, one fine day in Manhattan Beach, they struck a conversation that changed their lives.
Erica and Brian shared the milkshake--the one with two straws--and relaxed as they watched the world float by on Manhattan Avenue. The cars, the flashing lights, the sounds of FM radio whizzing by. Inside the cool of the Creamery, they enjoyed the delectable remnants of the sugar that remained in the small crevices of their lips. Together.
I'm thrilled to be shooting their wedding next year at Terranea Resort in Palos Verdes...I suspect it'll be ultra fab and an epic party! Here are a few of my favorites from their engagement session in Manhattan Beach... |
| One thing I love about shooting at Los Angeles beaches is the abundance of random walls, urban fare, and uniqueness...Erica and Brian just make it extra fabulous! |
| Why, yes. Yes, I adored Erica's shoes. |
| There was a part of me that was nervous asking Erica and Brian if they wanted to, oh, HANG OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET, but they were total troopers and made things extra fun... |
| We caught the last bits of sunset and the light was simply amazing... |
| We hung out on Manhattan Beach Pier for a few more engagement photos and had a blast... |
| I was lucky enough to meet the third member of Erica and Brian's family...Marco. I completed loved him and thought it'd be so cool to have him play with my dog Polo. Because, you know, it'd be pretty epic to yell "Marco...Polo...Marco...Polo!" |
W hen I saw it--crushed and dried from the weight of someone else's foot--it made me think of her. Of childhood. Of our humble home on Meeker Street. I bent down to pick it up and I brought it home this morning. Because it made me think of her.
When we first moved into our home, the walls remained naked because, after all, food for dinner and car repairs took precedence. My mother picked up an odd job as a way to help with finances...and hopefully find a way to dress those walls. Every afternoon she'd pile us kids into the single car my parents shared and she'd drive us to 30 photo labs. The kind that were stand-alones in grocery store parking lots and all the rage in the 1980s. My sister and I catalogued the film and place them in a huge bag. At the end of our daily trips, we'd drop them off at the main lab, my sister and I each holding a side of the heavy plastic bag, my mother waiting in the idling car.
After months of driving, my mother saved enough to buy wallpaper. Not enough for the entire living room, but, undeterred, she said two wallpapered walls were better than none. We went as a family to Standard Brand and my mother combed through huge books of samples until she found the perfect paper. Off white paper covered with pressed english roses, in varying hues of mauve. Because mauve was so the color in the 1980s.
When I saw the pressed rose today on the ground during a morning walk, it made me think of her. Of childhood. Of our humble home on Meeker Street. I brought the rose home to remind me, today, that the little girl who'd drop off rolls of film has grown a bit. But I'm extraordinarily fortunate that I'm no longer delivering somebody else's pictures, I'm delivering my own. |
2013
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