What Fatherhood Taught Me About Photography | Capturing the Moments That Matter

What Fatherhood Taught Me About Photography | Capturing the Moments That Matter

They say once you have kids, time flies — and if you’re a parent, you know how true that is.

I’ve got two little ones at home — Gabriel and Evey — and our third, Isla, is on the way this summer. And every day, I feel it.

One second, I’m watching them figure out how to crawl, and the next, I’m being told I’m not needed to get them dressed anymore. There are days that feel long and nights that never end, but the years? They vanish in a blink.

And somewhere in all of that motion, it hits me: these are the moments I’ll miss most.

The photos in this post are of my own family — me, Mandy, and the kids — and they’re everything to me. Not because they’re perfect, but because they freeze something I already feel slipping through my fingers: a moment where we’re all still in it together, just as we are right now.

That’s Why I Don’t Take What I Do Lightly

Every time I pick up a camera — whether it’s for a wedding, a family session, or just documenting a messy morning at home — I’m not chasing the perfect shot. The perfect light, the perfect pose, the perfectly dressed kids — that’s not what stays with you.

I’m chasing a feeling.

The kind of feeling that lives in the in-between: the deep breath before a “yes,” the quiet hand squeeze during vows, the giggle that bursts out of your child before they even know why they’re laughing.

Because one day, when the toys are packed away, the bedtime books are shelved for good, and the house feels a little too quiet, I know I’ll want more than just a record of what it all looked like.

I’ll want to feel it again.

The way it felt to be in a room full of noise and love.
The way my kids leaned into me when they were still small enough to fit perfectly under my arm.
The way Mandy and I looked at each other on the days when the chaos was just as real as the joy.

That’s what I try to capture — not a performance, but a presence.
Not perfection, but proof that we were here. Together.

And years from now, when those images resurface, I hope they don’t just remind me of the moment.
I hope they take me right back to how it felt.

This Isn’t Just My Job — It’s My Life

When I photograph families, I don’t need anyone to tell me what matters. I already know.

It’s the way your child runs to you without thinking. It’s the hand on your back.
The glance your partner gives you when they think no one’s watching.

Those are the things that go unnoticed in the moment, but they mean everything later.

And weddings? It’s the same. The real magic isn’t in the staged portraits — it’s in the small things: the nervous breath before walking down the aisle, the embrace from a parent who’s letting go, the way two people look at each other when they realize this is the beginning of something much bigger.

I show up with a camera, sure. But more than anything, I show up with intention. I know what I’m looking for — not because I read it in a guide or studied it in school, but because I’ve lived it.

With years of experience photographing weddings and families, and even more time spent in the trenches of real life — as a dad, a partner, someone watching time move too fast — I know exactly what it feels like to wish you could freeze a moment.

That’s why I don’t just take photos. I look for the feeling behind them — the quiet connection, the fleeting glance, the real-life magic that’s gone before you even realize it was there.

One Day, You’ll Want to Remember How It all Felt

This work means everything to me. Not just because I get to create beautiful images, but because I get to help people hold on to what matters.

This isn’t just a business. It’s personal.

It’s for the dads who blink and suddenly their toddlers are riding bikes.
It’s for the couples who are starting something huge but don’t even realize it yet.
It’s for the families who want to remember how it felt — the chaos, the calm, the in-between.

So if you’re thinking about booking family photos, or planning your wedding, and you’re wondering whether it’s worth it — I’m telling you: it is.

Not because you need content for social. But because these seasons don’t last.
And one day, you’ll be glad you pressed pause — even just for a moment.