Dalton and Paige's spring wedding at the Wright House in Mesa, at the Provencal Garden - a French inspired wedding venue near Phoenix!
My first wedding of 2024 was absolutely incredible, from start to finish. I was so honored to spend the day with Paige and Dalton to document their spring wedding at the Wright House in Mesa. Ever since their engagement session in Sedona last fall, I knew that this wedding was going to be beautiful!
Their ceremony was in the Provencal garden under the gazebo, which was inspired by the Provence…
EIGHTIES, Part I
Requested by @papermint-airplane
Starring Caleb and Lilith Vatore
I think this was a good decade for them. Most people thought the goths might be vampires anyway, so they blended right in.
Only Caleb was requested, but we all know they come as a package deal, and I must admit I was already working on these looks anyway. I initially had Caleb in more punk attire (e.g. patched leather jacket and Mohawk), but it just didn't feel like him. I got suggested this hair, and it all fell together then. I imagine this is when he first discovered that buttoning up shirts is an unnecessary expenditure of energy. I'm not sure if it reads as quintessentially '80s, but I think it's perfect for him. This might be my favorite version of them I've done so far, and I have some story plans brewing for this era that could involve crowd participation, so keep your eyes peeled. 👀
Elden Ring self-insert~ complete with study of what items I’m currently carrying, and my ever-chronic tendency of getting fucking lost… magic horse-goat must be so fed up with my navigation skills by now he’s gonna buck me off
Time seemed to pause as I spent the evening with Hannah, lingering over dinner as she spoke passionately about her classes, the intricate beauty of Latin American colonial art history, and the contours of her upcoming thesis final. She shared vivid memories of last summer in Toulon and Marseille, painting each scene with the colors of the Mediterranean sun. We wandered aimlessly around town afterward, ducking into the bookshop and gift shop to escape the bustling thrum of Main Street.
Later, we found sanctuary among the mahogany walls in S, the walls infused with the whispers of the past, where we read in companionable silence for some time, each lost in our own worlds yet together. The walk around campus under the soft evening sky was another kind of conversation; her hand in mine felt like a silent promise, familiar and comforting. As we sat on the imposing bench, she told me stories of her life on the North Shore of Chicago, places with names like Winnetka and Glencoe, and her plans for this summer.
I listened, absorbed in the warmth of her voice, noticing the fleeting song of night birds—a serenade for whom, I wondered? Our walk under the glow of the street lamp, with the sound of rushing water as our backdrop, was a quiet symphony. After walking with her back to her house, and before she bounded up to her room, standing there in the soft light, she smiled like sunlight on a snowy morning—a moment so perfect yet so piercing, for I wished, so deeply, that I could be different, that I were different.
Tonight was a tapestry of moments, of stories shared and silences filled with meaning. I will miss her as our paths diverge with the coming summer. I keep silent about my worry that the physical distance of summer will become an emotional distance in the autumn.