Christmas House Inn Rancho Cucamonga Wedding - Kelly + Greg

Kelly: "Greg, the joke is, we don't really do emotions. Of course that's not true, but the quiet way we love each other feels inherent, elemental, easy.... You've done so much for me. You've made me trust being vulnerable - in some rare, specific occasions. You believe in me - not just me, but the way I see the world... I promise high fives, dark inside jokes. fun adventures, coffee and tea, couch snuggles, snacks, and life. I promise to love you, even during football season. I promise to keep earning those looks, and looking at you that way in return. I promise you us."

Greg: "Kelly, it feels somewhat disingenuous to pledge my undying devotion to you as if it's some sort of sacrifice or grand gesture on my part because, in all truth, it is the ultimate privilege.... Despite being wildly antisocial I always look forward to spending all the time I can with you, and I truly believe it's because you don't just register as "another person"; you're a part of me... I promise to never stop making fun of you, and to never stop giving you ample reason to do the same to me.... I promise to always know where we are and in what direction we're headed so that you don't have to, and to do whatever math may come our way in life. And I even promise to throw in the occasional Harry Potter reference...always."

Pasadena California Wedding - Laina + Jake

One of the best things about my job as a wedding photojournalist is that I can never predict what would happen on a wedding day. Sure, there is the timeline with what's supposed to happen at what time, but I mean the relationships and personalities I get to photograph throughout the day. Because no two weddings are the same, I get pumped up and am nervous (in a good way) thinking about how the day would pan out. Laina and Jake's wedding was one of those life events where I went in with a complete blank space and came out with so much love, happiness, relief, comfort and fun!

Why I broke down at Foundation First Workshop
(*Disclaimer; This post is filled with personal vulnerable feelings and experience I felt and gained at Foundation First Workshop and is meant for fellow photographers who are curious about FF and/or people who don't mind reading about my personal day-to-day struggle as a person and a photographer.)

I never knew I'd be a photographer.

But I always treasured my family's photo albums that my mom had put together; in those 3x5 and 4x6 photos of my childhood, I'm fully naked, I'm running around with my brother, I'm crying hysterically, and I'm doing something I don't even know what. To me, those were the authentic proof of where I came from, how I grew up, and how much I was loved. I used to measure my parents' love with how many photos I had of me growing up. Those are unaltered moments and it is my story. And perhaps, that is why I love what I do so much - like, insanely so much.

In January this year, I stood before a couple of dozen photographers at the end of the Foundation First Workshop in Texas - designed for wedding and family photographers who want to improve their craftsmanship and learn from some of the world's best documentary wedding photographers - and I became a crying mute for a good couple of minutes and then mumbled a few words about what I learned at the workshop, which probably didn't even make any sense.

Photo by Joe Appel

Photo by Candice C. Cusic

It took me a while to figure out why I broke down that night; I'm writing this post months later, which I honestly didn't want to in the first place to save some personal embarrassment, but as our fearless director Huy Nguyen intelligently preached during the workshop, "Who cares? Look Stupid."

It wasn't because I was sad or physically exhausted.
It was definitely not because I had been nervous about being told that I sucked.
It wasn't because I was afraid of approaching strangers on assignment.
It wasn't because I had been frustrated with the lack of knowledge about my own cameras.

It was because, everyone (fellow students, staff and mentors) and even random strangers in Texas seemed too nice to me, and that really overwhelmed me.

That sounds odd, doesn't it?
But it's true.

Plus, speaking in front of 3-plus people makes me nauseous.

 Super talented and loving mentors, staff, and students of FF 2016.  (Photo by Joe Appel)

I didn't grow up with hugs and kisses. I grew up in a family where committing suicide was a regular conversational topic or a possible solution to your own frustration. To this date, it is my biggest fear that it might actually happen to any of my family; I just pray that it wouldn't. My dad wanted to be a good provider so he was almost never present (but his money was) when I was growing up while my depressed mom could play the victim all day long. So you see, I am never a stranger to disappointment and frustration. Learning how to endure my own disappointment and frustration has always been part of my life, and I had been so consumed with who I was "supposed to be."

So Foundation First Workshop was really weird to me in the most positive way; it didn't teach me to become someone else, rather encouraged to discover and bring out more of me. Beyond camera skills and how to look for the "light," my mentors taught me how to embrace life, simply exist, connect, wait, observe and work with what you already have - your HEART. 

Honestly, I had wanted the perfect recipe - those juicy secrets from these world-class photographers - because I'm a 35-year-old, who barely got out of a divorce, trying to be a wedding photographer (which is, yes, ironic) with just one-year experience in the industry; I felt like time was running away from me. Then the whole FF experience reminded me to take a step back, take a deep breath and evaluate where I was and where I came from, and that there is no straight line to success. All those bumps, slip-offs and embarrassments are perhaps what made my fate; without them, what would've shaped my life? If I never veered off course, I wouldn't be this emotional, weird and sympathetic and be able to produce the work and stories that resonate with others. 

During the workshop, you may feel like you're lost because there is a lot of soul-searching and finding out who you are and why you do and want to keep doing this. At least for me, it was. FF also proved that the frustration was not an interruption of my process; yet it is the process. These greatest mentors assured me to dream and believe; most importantly, it is okay to screw up because that's just a part of it all. 

As strange as this may sound, because of those photos my dad took of our family whenever he had chances and those albums my mom had thoughtfully put together, I know they loved and love me a lot. And now when I'm photographing someone else's life, I'm loved again.
 

Thank you everyone, Huy NguyenTyler WirkenSergioGulnara SamoilovaCraig FritzCandice C. CusicJoe AppelJan GarciaKelly RashkaSherry PickerellMcKenzie RingChristine SanchezBridget EldridgeJenny PetersenVeronica Rodriguez-BransonJuan Carlos CalderonMelissa SunesonRob WhelanKate AndersonRhea SkogenMark SkogenTina Shah DoshiShelly Sessions, and last but not least Katie Noble Harris.

Photo by Joe Appel

By me...

Annie BangComment