Jenny + Dave — Wedding Day

A spe­cial film for a spe­cial cou­ple.

I was giv­en the chance to film the wed­ding of Jenny and Dave on the Hawaiian island of Maui. Everything about the day was gor­geous, from the trop­i­cal weath­er to the bur­geoun­ing cen­tre­pieces1 to the torch­lit recep­tion. It all came togeth­er to cre­ate an atmos­phere of sub­lime charm, and I had so much fun cap­tur­ing it all.

I make each wed­ding film as acces­si­ble as pos­si­ble, so any­one can get a sense of the day even if they weren’t there. But I also include cer­tain things that would be under­stood by only the peo­ple involved. In this film it was shots such as an uncle doing an hilar­i­ous bump-and-grind on the dance floor, or the bride tear­ing up while writ­ing her speech, or the father-in-law say­ing a few words while firm­ly hold­ing the groom’s hand dur­ing the tea cer­e­mo­ny. Details such as the lat­ter may not seem like much to an out­sider, but fam­i­ly and friends at the wed­ding would under­stand how such a small phys­i­cal dis­play of affec­tion can mean so much.

This was by far my most chal­leng­ing wed­ding film to make, but it was well worth it. For a while, it became my rea­son for liv­ing, the one I want­ed to be remem­bered for, and my goal was to deliv­er this film before I died. There’s a piece of my soul in it, so I can’t say how lucky I am to have been giv­en this oppor­tu­ni­ty to cre­ate this for Dave and Jenny, and how I hap­py I am to know they deserve it.

(A big thank-you to wed­ding pho­tog­ra­ph­er Mike Adrian, who was a delight to work with, and taught me a thing or two about how to pack for des­ti­na­tion wed­dings.)

  1. The Four Season’s now has a rule that lim­its the size of the cen­tre­pieces, because they would some­times catch the wind and fall over. This was the last wed­ding at the Four Seasons to have such mas­sive ones, the rule being grand­fa­thered in, as Jenny and Dave planned the wed­ding right before it came into effect. []

this is interlude

I was­n’t ready for the snow. I pic­tured myself at home with noth­ing bet­ter to do than sleep in as it was falling, but instead I’m too busy to enjoy it. Now there’s noth­ing left of the snow that has fall­en, cause fate seems to be con­spir­ing with the weath­er to make this Christmas any­thing but white.

Unfortunately, this is when I need to be buried under snow. I’m con­vinced the win­ter will wash every­thing away, and I’ll emerge clean again.

boy plays with man

I don’t know what to do with myself late­ly. Ever since Will was born, catch-up time with ____ has been a call he gives me every now and then between meth­ods of pub­lic trans­porta­tion as he makes his way home from work. I just want to talk to some­one and have their undi­vid­ed atten­tion, cause it’s the old habits I miss the most, the late nights when you’d rather stay in some­one’s com­pa­ny than sleep. But the only peo­ple who under­stand are also the peo­ple with their own lives, and too often I’m left to my own devices.

As a result, I’ve been feel­ing vul­ner­a­ble. I hold myself back from reach­ing out to the wrong arms, the ones who touch my face and drag their nails across my skin, the ones with famil­iar smells and com­fort­ing weak­ness­es, the ones who appre­ci­ate the things I want to be appre­ci­at­ed for, but none of whom can give me what I need.

pictionary

Dennis’s socks.

I’m sure I’d feel as lone­ly as ever if I was­n’t so over-stim­u­lat­ed and ready to be by myself for a while. This prob­a­bly won’t hap­pen until some point dur­ing the hol­i­days, and even then, I had plans on catch­ing up on per­son­al projects and chores I can only bring myself to do once a year1. Maybe this is adults mean when talk about how time pass­es more quick­ly when you’re old­er.

I’m in between places now, unsure of where I am or where I’m head­ed. But at the very least, I know what I’ve been through and what’s behind me.

  1. i.e. Cleaning the floor­boards and walls of the house. []

Vikki & Dan — Wedding Day

Filmed anoth­er love­ly wed­ding in the Fall. The cer­e­mo­ny was small and inti­mate with only a hand­ful of peo­ple invit­ed, tak­ing place at the tiny look­out on Rockcliffe Parkway, while the recep­tion was a great big par­ty at the RA Centre. One of the most unique things about this wed­ding were the paper lanterns giv­en to all the guests. By the end of night the sky was full of them, drift­ing away beau­ti­ful­ly above us.

It was anoth­er chance to work with the won­der­ful Liz, who is always on the top of my list of pho­tog­ra­phers I rec­om­mend for wed­dings. Not only do her pho­tos end up look­ing amaz­ing, she always works with me when cap­tur­ing all the impor­tant details, instead of against me, as I’ve noticed with some pho­tograpehrs. Check out the pho­tos in her sneak peak.

candy sushi

Also of note were the wed­ding favours, each box con­tain­ing a pair of can­dy sushi. The maki was made by rolling a flat sheet of Rice Krispie squares over a fill­ing of Gummy Worms, wrapped with Fruit Roll-Up. The nigiri had gum­my sharks as the fish, also tied togeth­er with a strip of Fruit By The Foot. Small, bite-sized packs of cute and deli­cious.

we put our feet just where they had to go

Our final days grow ever dark­er, but win­ter feels far away when I turn on the A/C in the car as we set off on the scenic route. It’s strange to think I’ll nev­er be here again. I do my best to take my time, to remem­ber the smell of every wood­en house and twirl of hair and cozy wind. This was nev­er a way for me to escape my life back home, only a jour­ney I knew I need­ed to take.

But the nov­el­ty of grey hair and almond eyes has long run out, and now I’m just a man, try­ing to find out where he belongs.

fountain

A mask that smiles.

Continue read­ing “we put our feet just where they had to go”…

take me somewhere nice

It’s night, and a gen­tle song begins on my bed­side speak­er. Until this point, I’d always won­dered who’d be the first to hear this song with me. Whose breath I’d feel on my body as the melody got lost in the dark­ness along with our inhi­bi­tions. It was­n’t a song I’d been sav­ing, only one I nev­er had the chance to share until I found myself here, explor­ing the open fields and windswept moun­tains and towns in between.

Sarah and sweater

Continue read­ing “take me some­where nice”…