Carol and Virgil hired me in June to photograph their much larger affair at their home at The Ford Plantation scheduled for Fall.   It didn’t take but one meeting and a shoot to know they are a fun loving, light-hearted couple.  In fact, I’d say they are an absolute blast!  They are “salt of the earth” …you know, the kind of people that think of you first…”do you need something to eat, to drink? can we help you with your things?  are you okay?  too warm? too cold?  how are the boys?”  They always began with me and really, anyone around them.  You would have thought I was their client and not the reverse.  I could not help but fall in love with them.

I photographed their engagement session on a steamy July afternoon.  We ran around The Ford, biked up and down their street, went to the docks and just laughed and laughed.   It really could not have been a better session.  I posted an image of them riding bikes, holding hands and laughing.

And then life changed.

Later than night, Carol called.  Virgil hit his head in a fall and was in surgery.   He suffered a brain injury…the sneaky kind where you seem fine to everyone around you, but your brain is not fine.  Carol’s intuition and quick thinking got Virgil to the hospital.  Her resolve and compassion guided them through setbacks, uncertainty and  the long, arduous road to recovery.   We talked, Carol and I, for a few minutes, sometimes an hour as the months passed…always about what happened, what could have happened and what was to happen next.  Plans were put on hold, dates would be penciled in on the calendar and then pushed back.

Brain injuries take time to heal.  How long?  Well, wouldn’t it be nice to know?

Just when life seemed to settle down, Carol’s father became ill and passed away.  Grief became the center of our conversations because  I understood.  I had lost my own father suddenly.  So much to manage.  So much grief.  And it saddened me because, Lord, she needed a break…some respite from it all.

I had’t spoken with Carol in a while.  Surely the plans were on an indefinite hold.  The phone rang one night while I was working.  It was Carol.  Would I be willing to make the drive to their home in Orlando?   Virgil was well and she was feeling grounded …more like herself again.  There were getting married.

I was elated.  I couldn’t wait to see them.  So my wheels rolled down I-95 on a perfectly temperate spring day.  I held back tears as Carol stepped into her gown and we laughed and joked just to keep ourselves together.  She glowed.  Truly.  Her hair, her skin, her eyes…there was a peace about her.  She and Virgil had made it…finally, to their wedding day.

This job, a wedding photographer, seems a precious gift to me on days like Saturday and well, days like today.  When nonsense and sadness rule the airways.  When pain and uncertainty fill up our hearts.

So while we pray for Boston.  We pray for the people around us with personal battles.  We pray for peace and happiness again.  I offer you some joy.  Some hope.  And above all, love.  I get to see it every  time I go to work …and times like this past Saturday, it is a greater gift than I even realize.

I wish you , Carol and Virgil, love and peace.  Thank you for letting me witness the goodness in life.

With love – DVB

Wasn’t I tired yet?

Wasn’t it physically taking it’s toll?

Wasn’t I tired of the dealing with the wedding drama?

Wedding drama?  You have no idea!

I have stories that would last for a whole weekend.  But you know what?  Those stories are old.  Perhaps I have changed, my clients have changed and the world has changed.  All of my clients have a deep connection and love for one another but mostly, when it comes to the wedding, they are relaxed.  They see the big picture and they have put their faith in the professionals they hire.  Because of that I know myself and the wedding planners work exceptionally hard to make everything perfect.  We love our clients…we talk about it all day long…”aren’t they so wonderful?  Isn’t she gorgeous?  Look at how they look at each other? ”   We are often sad to “break up” with them.  We are so intimate for such an important event…it is hard not imagine we haven’t known them forever.

So when I say, I still love it…it is because of brides like Kristin.  She is an amazing person.  Yes…she is obviously gorgeous — like crazy gorgeous!  But she was so happy and relaxed.  It rained.  It poured.  She let Caroline Carter make the call about where the ceremony should be…just let Kristin know which aisle to walk down to meet Bruce and Max.    A year of planning and she gave it up to God as the say.

She, Bruce and their son Max came from their home in Switzerland to marry in Savannah.  And their wish was granted…they married in front of the fountain at Forsyth under sunny skies!

He is a Georgia Tech alum.  Her with parents at Callawassie.  And the ballroom at the Mansion was bathed in love.  People were just so happy to be together…friends from all over the world.  It was amazing to witness…and even more amazing to see the way Bruce looked at Kristin.   Their son, Max…to die for blue eyes.  The perfect mix of them. I can only hope the the love pours out of my images the way it flowed last Saturday.

Nope — I am not quitting anytime soon.  Not as long as my brides are like Kristin.

With love – DVB

Loreen Hospodar of  Reenie Rose, www.reenierose.com, is an artist who paints rich, luscious bridal bouquets.  She just completed my bride, Whitney’s bouquet.  Some of the florals were cut from Central Park that morning.  Gorgeous!

They aren’t all that way.  My dear friend Christine Hall is a mom like me and she is one hell of an artist.  So is my friend Joseph Gamble.  And I truly admire Amy Lind.  Or my dear friends Jeff and Betsy.  Nope…all unsuspecting artists.  You couldn’t point your finger at them in a Starbuck’s line and label them “artist”.  But they are all some of the very best and make a great living creating.

When my children ask though, I tell them I am a business owner.  For I am.  And I have thought of myself that way for over a decade.

But I am an artist, too.

I stare in the mirror and I see t-shirts and yoga pants (nope, don’t do yoga) staring back at me…it can’t possibly be true.  I am in carpool at 3pm every day.  I am on the PTA.  I make meal plans.  I am in a book club.  Nope, they don’t get any more suburban than me.  And you know what, I love this part of my life.

Sure, I am a photographer.  But how do I put a name on my voice, my style?  I don’t take set-up images with balloons and couches in fields.  Too contrived.  I don’t take blurry street shots because I don’t carry a camera everywhere I go.  I could not possibly juggle it with all the baseball and golf gear in my car.   I don’t go on photo safari’s because well,  I don’t have time.  I would rather take my precious free time from family and clients indulging in my friends or books or theater.  And you know what,  I like to live in the moment.

Selfishly soak it in.

But I think…perhaps it is time to teach my boys…ahem, myself, what my being an artist means in my world.   So this year, with a focused client roster that I have carefully chosen, I seek to reflect the love around me.

I photographed Kyle this past Saturday as she married Kelly.  In the chaos of a wedding day, I promised myself a few moments for me.  With only 11 guests including the bride and groom, I could travel light with a messenger bag and no assistants.  And my wonderful bride Kyle said “do your thing”…she was so relaxed and beautiful.  This was the perfect time to see how I see.  To move past the obligatory pretty bridal pose below.

And move on to me…

Kyle’s mother asked her to wear her hair up.  She fussed with it a bit so I asked to to take the clip out.  She obliged.  Her whole demeanor changed as she moved from “for mom” —  to “for me”.  She became powerful and dare I say, even more settled into her own skin.

This is the portrait I took for me.

And these are the portraits I took for Kyle.  Not of her…but for her.  I wanted her to see how truly beautiful and happy she was on her wedding day.

And here she is with Kelly.

Maybe you don’t see what I see…but I see her soul.  And that is why I am an artist.

PS:   Thank you Kyle and Kelly for indulging me in a few extra minutes on your wedding day.  You two are exceptional in every way.  I was so honored to witness your wedding day.

With love – DVB

I can’t tell you the teacher’s name but I can describe her.  Short brown hair, curly and a bit longer in the back, plaid button down, dusty blue Dockers, slightly ruddy skin. She was not at all what you would think of when someone says “art teacher”.  She was plain and non-descript to me.

I am visual.  I knew it then though maybe I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I was astonished by that C+ because could she not see what I could?  ”Clearly, she couldn’t,” I thought to myself.

I did not pick up a camera again until college.  After a writing assignment to cover a vehicle accident, I went to my advisor.  ”This bothering people” I said, ” I could not do”.  She told me to earn my degree I could either write for the daily paper or take pictures.   Photography 101 was on my schedule the next semester.  I rolled film every Friday night to meet newspaper deadlines while my roommates when out.  I covered the pig races at fairs, Valentine’s dances, speakers on campus, and yes, car accidents.  I had a professor (whose name I also don’t remember but I could describe his features easily) who walked me around campus at dawn and taught me how to see, how to be patient, and how to watch people. During those early walks, that professor (though it took a full decade for me to embrace it) gave me my career.

Last night,  I photographed the first wedding of 2013 and celebrated my birthday.  Perhaps that combination made me nostalgic or sentimental.  I could not help but smile all day because I love what I do.   And Lacy and Robert were the perfect example of what I am — not just a photographer but particularly a wedding photographer.  These two trusted me, let their guard down, let me love them and loved me back.  It is that emotional exchange that begets trust, that begets beautiful images from my heart.  Lacy and Robert share an unshakeable and sincere love and they let me witness it.  I am so very grateful for them, and my clients just like them.  I wish them many, many birthdays of happiness.

With love…DVB

Right or wrong, it is a very real decision to live your values in your business and publish a wedding that will most likely not align with ALL of your client’s and potential client’s values. It is brave. I cannot lie. I reflected to prepare myself for the fallout when I published a gay wedding. And the fallout did come, because of course, I live in the Deep South. I expected it and was prepared to manage it. And, in the end, I was proud to do the right thing…not for anyone else, but for me.  I could look my children in the eye.  That is what mattered to me…not that I represented for the cause or put myself or my business in the “eye of the storm” – perceived or not — for a moment.  Perhaps the push back or questions would not have been so harsh or direct had I lived back in my Midwestern home or NYC, Chicago, DC..somewhere ahead of the Southern curve.

For all of us believe with all of our hearts in love, gay or straight, interfaith, interracial, etc. or we wouldn’t be in this business. This is just one more domino in a long line of prejudice that should fall without reservation. Agreed.

However, I can’t help but find it slightly amusing that so many whom I know are so outspoken…wanting to pull ads, insisting this is your hill to die on….YOU STAND TO MAKE MONEY on the dissipation of this prejudice and that just seems a touch dirty to me. I wonder, if you weren’t in this business, would this be your hill to die on? Would it matter that much to you? Sure, you would be for it…but it would most likely not have a direct impact on your life or your bottom line.

And long before one Southern regional magazine acted out of fear, I am sure we have all had an opportunity to stand up for what is right.  So instead of criticizing or crucifying,  I challenge you to do something positive to move the cause forward instead of pointing the finger at someone else’s very public stumble.  It does not make you a better person…perhaps just a better business person to your bank.

Thanks for making me part of your trip home…I am so, so happy  you did!

Circa 2008

Tristan…their moving target:)

Walking with them after the proposal, he was floating from the excitement, the exhale of a surprise pulled off flawlessly,  and because he was home.  He kept talking about how his mom brought him and his siblings to the park all the time….that he knew it was the perfect place to propose.

As I drove downtown, it began to rain…a soft romantic rain.  Please Lord…don’t let the skies open up until 3:30, I prayed  It held off .  Oh, and God, please don’t let there be some random tourists getting in the shots.  He answered with a gentle mist and  nary a soul in the park.  For all the weddings I have photographed in front of the Forsyth Park  fountain…this, today, was the most amazing display of love ever.

I wish you and yours a Merry, Merry Christmas, full of hope, love and new beginnings.

DVB

I cross my fingers and hope I have one more December of hearing the bell ring from the Polar Express.  One more 25th that Santa comes to our house, down the chimney, eating the cookies, reindeer eating carrots and reindeer food.  Just one more year.  Please, God.

A silly thing to ask of God but in truth, I am asking for one more year of innocence for my boys.  They are isolated from the world as much as I can keep them in my version of Pleasantville…knowing deep down I really don’t control any of it.  That my family is just blessed…so far…so far.

And who am I kidding…one more year of remarkably ordinary moments that make the everyday and often mounting stress and demands of parenting worth it.  Yes, I am selfish like that.

Every year, Santa calls.  That is one of my remarkably ordinary moments.  Perhaps this is the last year.  I don’t know.  The happiness of that 10 minute phone call is so, so simple that it reminds me not to try too hard to impress my kids.  They have yet to notice that I don’t make perfect bows for their gifts (heck, if they have bows), that my wrapping paper isn’t color coordinated, the pj’s aren’t Christmas themed…nor are their sheets.  Sometimes, the cookies are break and bake and dinner is grilled cheese or cereal.

This year I left all 7 boxes of my Christmas decor up in the attic.  I didn’t bring down all their ornaments from preschool.  I didn’t bring down my snowman collection.  The tree is full of felt snowflakes and white lights with some burlap underneath it.  It is simple.  If they noticed, they didn’t say a word.

It isn’t that I am feeling particularly scroogish this year.  I just…I guess I just wanted to be present in every sense.  I didn’t want to be consumed with creating the perfect Christmas this year.  Instead, I wanted to just be…in the moment…every moment.

The phone rang.  Caller ID read “the North Pole”.  They lunged for the phone ready for their annual discussion of the year with Santa.  Lou and I held up our iPhones (okay, I went and got my Nikon) and relished every second.

Grayson told us after Santa’s call that we stayed up entirely too late last year and he was stressed out that Santa would skip us .  ”Alright then” we said, “Bedtime this year is 7pm “.  He gave us his best 10 year old eye roll.

Simple is enough.  They don’t asked to be impressed.  They just asked to be loved by me, by Louis and for now, by Santa.

Merry Merry!

DVB