Winter Love

An Italian villa. Lots of flowers and vintage details. LOTS of Dr. Who-referencing details. A grey wedding dress. A bride with pink hair. You know, just some of the standout details of Ben and Beck's fantastic wedding yesterday. I've known these two since college, and it was a pleasure and honor to be able to document their day of exchanging vows, beginning a new chapter in their life together and celebrating with their family and friends. Not to mention, Via del Sol D'oro in Sierra Madre is one of the most gorgeous venues I've shot.

Settle in, this is gonna be a long post....



I love moments like this, when the bride's father sees her in her dress for the first time.


Seriously, how elegant and rockin' does she look?



That ridiculously long scarf? One of their purely awesome Dr. Who details.






Did I mention how awesome that dress was?


I loved seeing how in love with each other these two are.








This was such a sweet tender moment between Beck and Ruth, one of her bridesmaids.








There was no shortage of simply wonderful details at the reception, from the little favor bags, to the table settings and everything else. (And not a shabby chic mason jar anywhere in sight.)


Just try to tell me this is not the cutest wedding cake ever.







As first dances go, you really can't beat a room like this.



This one's a bit out of focus, but I can't help it. I love it.




These two know how to dance.


The danced. And then they danced more. And then dashed out in a shower of rose petals and cheers.


Mr. and Mrs. Ross, thank you, so much, for giving me the gift of documenting this beautiful day. 


In the time that's passed.

It's a little embarrassing how long of a gap there's been between postings here. But, in the past few months life has gotten pretty busy, between working for a great nonprofit organization, working for a marketing firm and falling head over heels in love with a great gal.

That said, here's one of my favorite portraits of late, of Bernie, a super-dedicated volunteer at the Senior Center where I work.


Probably a lot more posting come soon, with some exciting shoots on the horizon.

Voices raised as one

"Fight, fight until the end."
The voices of many, echoing in a canyon of concrete, glass and steel. Protesters crowded outside the Turkish consulate in Los Angeles this afternoon, demanding Turkey finally acknowledge the Armenian Genocide of 1915. Old and young, crying out for justice.











Have you passed through this night?

One of the great things about working in journalism is getting to meet interesting people and hear (and share) their stories. Last week, I had the honor of interviewing Renee Firestone, a Holocaust survivor who has remained tireless in sharing her story and raising awareness of ongoing oppression in the world. You can read that story here. When it came to shoot her portrait, I was working quickly, and wanted to keep the composition simple, a bit somber and with a bit of shadow. 


The moon is down.


Our lives are frequently marked by the unexpected.
Coming home on a Saturday night, I didn't know that within half an hour I'd be on dark desert roads headed to Las Vegas.
My friend hadn't known until that afternoon that his father was lying in a Nevada hospital bed, body wracked with cancer.
It must've been sometime around 2 a.m. when we got there. The halls of the ICU were hushed, dimly lit and smelling faintly of the chemical smell all hospitals have. Joseph went in to spend some time at his father's bedside while we waited down the hall. At one point, he text-messaged me, asking me to take a photo. 
It's one thing to shoot these kinds of images for a news story, when there's a certain divide between you and the story. It's another when it's of a close friend, sitting there watching a machine keep his father alive. 
And frankly, as powerful as I find this image, I wouldn't have posted it unless Joseph had asked me to, after his father passed this week.

A sunset kind of love



They were high school sweethearts. Now he's a Marine, and for months she's been waiting for his return from Afghanistan. Now, they're reunited as they prepare for a July wedding celebration.
Yesterday, I had a blast spending time with Julie and Tyler, capturing images of them around Edmonds. You two are great, and I can't wait for July 3 to roll around.

















Rack 'em up



While down in southern California this month, I had the chance to shoot some images for a local senior center. While I was there, it was great hanging out with this group of pool players, most of whom are there every day.






A father's love

I had the last-minute pleasure of capturing images for the bat mitzvah of Rabbi B.'s daughter this past weekend on Mercer Island. Thankfully, there was no rain and mild enough temperatures so we could take some relaxed, natural light portraits outside. I love the warmth and emotion in this portrait of him and Chayale.

Little by little

Narrowing down a portfolio is essentially the process of lining up your children and deciding which ones you love the most. Well, after much of that, my portrait portfolio is finally being printed. Needless to say, I'm stoked about having 51 of my favorite images in a big, hardbound volume. A strong web-based portfolio is vital (I'm getting there in the next few weeks), but so is a physical product.
The cover looks a little something like this...



Separation clarity

So, I've been in the process of going through image after image, culling and narrowing down my portrait and wedding portfolios as I prepare to launch the long-overdue JoshPremako.com in the next few weeks. I won't lie. There have been moments, as I've started to go cross-eyed from staring at photo after photo after photo, that I've mused "It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if I just 'accidentally' lost all the photos on my hard drives and started from scratch, would it?" It can grow wearisome, cycling through past work, trying to decide what best represents you, while functioning as your own worst critic.
And then I stumbled across this image of my friend Megan, shot more than two years ago in a fire-blackened Southern California canyon. I somehow completely bypassed this image while editing back then, and last night saw it with new eyes. A horizontal crop, a few minor adjustments, and I sat at my desk feeling better about a lot of things.



I'm finding it sometimes takes that distance, that time away from things, to provide clarity and freshness to get back on track with more vigor than we had before, when perhaps we were muddling along attempting to keep up a flagging energy. I've been feeling that a lot over the last few months, reminded that sometimes we simply need to step back, take a deep breath (literally or figuratively) and take stock of things. And just maybe, that's all it takes to find our way. I know that sounds terribly reductive, and really has nothing to do with this photo, but it's the truth.
What do you need to step back from?