I was nineteen when I started taking photos. They were terrible photos. I had recently moved to Lithuania for university and wanted a better way to communicate about my life to friends and family back home. While it was great to be able to share my life with friends, I feel bad for all the people who had to sit through my terrible montages. Despite the poor quality, the reason I loved photography was the way it allowed me to engage with people. I was able to communicate my feelings through imagery and show people how I saw the world; photography was a way to invite people into my life—into my story.
It’s a truth that stems from one of my core beliefs: that people matter—that marriage matters—that your story matters. When I started to get into photography, and particularly wedding photography, what drew me in was that people were inviting me into their lives to collaborate with them and to be a part of—and share—in their story.
My fascination with stories started as a kid; I would devour books. I would sometimes read two or three in a single sitting. I loved mystery novels—you know, like The Hardy Boys and The Boxcar Children—they always had a sense of adventure to them that inspired me. I wanted to live a life of adventure.
My imagination was pretty uninhibited and as a kid the world was so incredibly accessible and innocent. I was always excited to be outside exploring. I’d make up new languages, write short-stories, and and build forts. I was the only 12 year old I knew checking books out of the library on (multiple) Indo-European (primarily Slavic) languages. (My first aspiration was to be a polyglot. I have currently settled for being a photographer). When I was 14 my parents let me expand my borders and let me trek out on my first trip to Europe with some family friends. Ever since then, in addition to having an overactive imagination, I’ve had a severe case of wanderlust.
When I started taking photography seriously, it was incredibly meaningful to me because I didn’t have to necessarily explain my stories with words—I was able to actually show them to people.
I think the most amazing thing about stories is that you get to participate in the journey alongside those for whom you are documenting. I think life is full of beauty—even in the mundane. Daily Rituals. Awe. Fears. Hope. I think these are incredible things and I love how Weddings bring these things together all into one place and make them into one beautiful, and fluid, story.
Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about the word Legacy. I really want to leave behind a legacy to those around me. I want my wife to remember me as someone who treasured her and who was devoted to her; I want my kids to remember me as someone who loved their mother and loved and believed in them relentlessly; I want my friends to remember me as someone who was committed to be present with them—not on my phone or bailing on them because I want to get ahead in my career.
I want to take photos that are part of a Legacy. I want to take photos that matter.
If you think marriage is a big deal—if you don’t need a reason to book a flight to Europe—if your wedding is a celebration in the woods where you first fell in love—please get in touch because I think we’re going to get along really well.
Thanks for hanging in there and for checking out my work. I’m looking forward to enjoying hot beverages with you and swapping stories.