Apollo Fields Wedding Photography
August 13, 2019
As we conclude another busy stretch that included: a wedding near the artsy town Hudson in upstate NY, a studio collaboration in Philly with a badass industry professional and friend, Dylan Crossley, and a boudoir shoot on Long Island—we’re ready to pack up our gear and start our next leg in Boulder, Colorado. Our rigorous schedule can be demanding, stressful, and scattered all over the place, but we find that it’s better to push ourselves rather than rest on our laurels because 1. our future selves will thank us; and 2. We have each other.
Heather has been on site for wedding days more often than myself this season, so when I got to shoot with her at the wedding in Ghent, NY, this past weekend, it reminded me of all the great parts of being a wedding photographer. From celebrating a couple’s love, to hearing people speak directly from the heart, and bearing witness to reunion after reunion and hug after hug—there’s so much going on in a wedding to be grateful for.
One thing I cannot emphasize enough for a couple who’s seeking a wedding photographer is to meet with your candidates before the wedding. You don’t realize how intimate the relationship is with your wedding photographer until the day of; when your mother or maid of honor is helping you slip into your dress, or your best man or father is helping you adjust your bow tie in the mirror—and just over your shoulder is a person with a camera. Yes, we’re professionals and can still do our job without really getting to know one another, but when we know what makes you comfortable or the backstory for the details that mean something to you, we can do our jobs that much better. At Apollo Fields, we prefer to be close to our couples, crying with them from behind our cameras rather than maintaining a safe distance from the connections and emotions that make a wedding day so special.
Traveling can be a lot. Personalities can be huge. Energy might not be there. There are so many variables that surround weddings that have stress written all over them, but just like any other obstacles or adversities, sometimes the best thing we can do is control the way we react to them. Better still, we can look at the current circumstances and pull from them the most positive things, choosing the silver lining of our experiences rather than the copper-colored rust of regrets or frustrations. Some say that life is a playground, others say it is a test—I believe it’s somewhere in the middle—with plenty of space for somersaults, self-improvement, and a craft beer in between.
As we zip up our luggage and secure our gear, I am energized by these words alone. They contain my reflections on the choices that I make everyday. I don’t run from difficulty and I am not afraid of the future. I pursue my goals with Heather, my partner who drives me mad at times but always helps to keep the course of this crooked ship. Here’s to the adventures that shape us along the way and the destination best left unknown.
How To Run A Wedding Photography Business
Happiness in the Workplace: The Life of a Wedding Photographer
Apollo fields | Denver wedding photographer | New York wedding photographer | Wedding photos | Engagement photos | wedding writer
Most people don’t enjoy their jobs. Whether it’s the fluorescent lighting or the no windows casino approach to work environments, the tired early morning commute or the death by a thousand cliches like “happy wife, happy life,” working in the 21st century is at best and worst a dull sort of suffering. The intermittent good days make the job not quite bad enough to quit, and the benefits of a stable job outweigh childish millennial pursuits like happiness in the workplace. Lucky for us, we don’t have that problem.
Heather called me yesterday after her 4th wedding of the weekend (!!), and I could hear her smiling through the phone. She was beaming about being in the center of a 30-minute horah (Jewish wedding dance celebration) and reflecting upon how grateful she is to have an occupation that lands her in the middle of these powerful cultural traditions. Despite having no ties to any sort of religion ourselves, more often than not, we are educated on and included into these intimate spiritual circles rather than being forced to the perimeters and relegated to the role of outsiders. Take that “multicultural day” at the office!
This wedding season, Heather has already shot weddings in Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, Colorado, soon to be Maine, and at the tail end of the season, Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Travel is part of our jobs and we’ve learned that there is love to be photographed everywhere! In the past, we’ve photographed weddings from the Dominican Republic to Quebec City, Canada, and we’re excited to the places our jobs will bring us in the future. Our ever-changing workspace keeps our eyes fresh and the hundreds of miles of open road keep our hearts for adventure well-fed.
That being said, the life of wedding photographers can be stressful and inconsistent. We don’t have work until we book it ourselves, making security and stability in our profession an autonomous responsibility of discipline and dedication. We don’t have windows in our office either, but that’s because the sun is on our shoulders; and we can’t hear cliches because we’re too busy dancing to the live band. Sure, it can be hard to keep the energy level high as the season wanes on, but every time it begins to fade there is a tear-jerking moment to bring us right back into the fold. I would trade the dynamic difficulties of our job for the static grinding of the human will that permeates office culture a hundred times over—because at the end of our workday—we’re growing towards love rather than withering towards retirement.
Jamaica Honeymoon - Day 1
Westmoreland, Jamaica | Sundown Villa | Honeymooning | Apollo Fields Photojournalism | Blog
Jamaica, Day 1
Friday, November 2nd , ~ 8:09am, local time
I woke up several times to the luminescent glow in the sky of a Jamaican sunrise, stirring to the sounds of life’s reawakening to the smell of fresh fires and morning birds. Looking out onto the rigid horizon, my view was divided in two — the sky and the sea — one blue, darker and in constant motion, while the other floated in its own lightness. The semi-frequent car horn blared from the street, bringing me back to the march of civilization that we thought we left in New York.
Hungry, I waited as Heather ruminated on her back in a lounge chair. She stared at the same dialectic view, but I know her eyes told her a different story. She saw the way the light struck the different crests of the ocean, the way it played with the rocks, creating shadows and depth as geckos crawled between the dark and the light. She heard the birds and the cars but she reached another plane of mind by sheer will, wrestling her otherwise purposeful mind into a peaceful submission. It took a bit of effort, but she got there, perhaps reaching an even more placid mental state than my own.
Most things are competitions for us and why would relaxation be any different. I told her while I was reading Shantaram that it seemed a task for her to sit still, that she should go start breakfast because 1) I was hungry, and 2) I thought that it would provide her productive mind with something to do. She disagreed, saying that it wasn’t difficult, that she found no trouble or resistance in the open space of an unoccupied mind, but I could see the struggle. The struggle of a relentless spirit meeting no opponent, of a force pushing forward to find no resistance, where effort was not rewarded but yielded to. What does a warrior make of passivity on the battlefield where victory reveals nothingness? Where there is no one to fight and nowhere to go but inside one’s heart? I imagine the war is explosive and silent. I’m just happy to see her relax.
I don’t know what to expect from our time in Jamaica, safely tucked into our Airbnb on the cliffs at Sundown Villa, somewhat immersed in the culture while staying at an arms length. Before we arrived, dad and others preached caution, forewarning danger, but our host, Nadine, exudes nothing but the warmth Americans have come to expect from Rasta and Jamaican culture. Clouded in the smoke of ganja, I hope to brush shoulders with locals and eat from their authentic tradition, whether from the street or between the walls of celebrated staples. I hope to return to the States revitalized and hungry, rejuvenated yet ready to begin the search for our new home.
Turning 30 - "Am I Where I Expected Myself to Be?"
30 is one of those milestone ages that makes us question every decision we’ve made in our lives. Trapped inside our own heads we look at our regrets under a microscope, taking stock of the growth and decay of our insecurities. 30 forces us to be honest with ourselves because between all the excuses we’ve made over the years, the time has kept on ticking. We finally ask ourselves: Am I where I expected myself to be at 30?
I think most of us would say, “hell no! I expected to have a stable job, a significant other, and maybe even a house that would soon become a home.” Turning 30 feels like a slap in the face to our youth and the mistakes we’ve made but in reality it’s a valuable signpost for the measure of our progress. We need reality checks like 30 because otherwise we could go on making excuses while nobody listens.
I personally stopped making excuses early, probably around 19 when I was academically suspended from my first university, SUNY Cortland. Ironically enough, I still consider this mistake one of the best things that happened to me because it gave me a reality check that I very much needed. For the next couple years, I proceeded to take time off from school, eventually enrolling back in a community college while taking on various jobs to identify my strengths and weaknesses. I would later get accepted into an Ivy League institution only to turn them down and finish my undergraduate studies at the top of my class at CUNY Hunter in New York City. The whole arc of those 11 years began with a reality check and now I’m taking stock of my choices.
The only promise I made to myself by 30 was to become an internationally known poet. Well, in November 2017, with the help of my fiancé, Heather, that became a reality when we published The Immeasurable Cookbook and sent copies to readers in Austria, Paraguay, and Portugal. It was a high bar to set but I cleared it because I chose a good partner in Heather and always used writing as a platform to express my thoughts and channel my creativity.
Despite this achievement, the thing I’m most proud of at the age of 30 is my peace of mind. Through my study of philosophy and my ten years of experience in hospitality I have recognized that mental health is our crown achievement given the complexity and perplexity of the human mind. I’ve made most of my decisions from a rational disposition, but I’ve always consulted my conscience as a valuable litmus test for my happiness. I believe that without our conscience, rationality can lead to cold, steely, logical conclusions; yet without our rationality, our emotions can steer us towards the volatile polarities in life. My peace of mind comes from a drive to strike a balance, harkening to the doctrine of the mean from Aristotle and remembering that a happy life depends on a steady ship in rough waters.
By 30 I have lived all around the United States, experienced love and heartbreak, success and failure, and the boring stuff in between. I’m getting married in October 2018 to a partner who helps me stay focused on long term goals while I keep the ship steady. With our eyes on the horizon we’re charting a course ready for a storm, yet carrying the reflection of the sunset in our eyes. A reality check doesn’t have to be a bad thing as long as you realize you have to adjust your sails.
Apollo Fields Wedding Photographers
3.12.18 - Bean Fosters – Golden, CO ~ 11:06 AM MT
It’s weird how a letter on a typewriter feels more real than a note typed into a word processor. Something about the tangible ink slapped onto the page one neat character at a time that delivers finality to your words. Typing on a typewriter forces you to arrange your thoughts in real time, creating a sense of emergency that nudges your mind to move forward rather than laterally.
Once you organize the first few words of a sentence and you like them enough you put them down and you figure the rest out as you go. Before you know it your fingers are splashing all over the keyboard and little tiny metallic pangs are echoing throughout the room until a delicate chime rings to delay the creative symphony for a few seconds.
There is definitely something more present about typing on a typewriter. On a computer with WiFi your mind is being torn to the sides, “come hang out in the periphery of the Internet where you won’t have to work so hard,” it calls to us. But being lucid enough to arrange your thoughts with a focus where you can’t believe your fingers are actually moving with purposeful conviction feels like a submission to the magical creative element that eludes the amateur artist. It’s funny that returning to a more primitive, real technology can trigger the magic that lives inside of us.
As I type this in Word Processor, I am constantly fumbling my thoughts, going back into my sentences and reworking them, never allowing my mind to uninhibitedly flow forward. Real time editing grants me the godlike power to alter the creative process and assure that I don’t make any silly or clunky mistakes. The problem with that is that it interferes with the free flowing creativity that is necessary to any worthy piece of work. It would seem unnatural to see a painter go back over their work and erase a stroke of the brush. When a painter dips their brush into a palate and splash it onto a canvas they mean it; when I write on a typewriter, plucking at the keys, I mean it.
A real element is lost in the creative process when it lives in the electrons of a screen, separating our hands from our creation. It is a similar transition in social media where we immerse ourselves in a world of appearances, a world that feels real, but isn’t. It gives us this sense of partial familiarity because the importance of the real is lost in the robotic 1’s and 0’s of binary code.
There’s nothing wrong with waiting for creativity to circle back around, sitting in discomfort as it orbits your mental grasp, just like there’s nothing wrong with admitting to something painful that’s happened in your life on social media. But the electronic cursor that prods your mind, blinking in your face like a cruel mockery of your stagnant creativity is akin to the way that the world of positive appearances mocks your negative experiences. A refusal to accept the real thrusts your existence into a world of appearances that seeks only to satisfy surface level gratification, ignoring the deeper concepts of our lives that wind up plaguing our minds into a cycle of consumptive passivity.
Allow pain to enter your mind and let seeds of creativity take on some water before you abandon their growth. Simpler times seem nostalgic because our minds were more engaged, more responsible when we didn’t have crutches to carry us along in our lives. It’s hard to argue for the welcoming of pain into one’s life, so think of it as an invitation to the real; a return to experience rather than appearance, because experience is where we derive meaning from and in the end we all want to lead meaningful lives. Don’t let the electrons mock you into a passive life. Move forward, not laterally.
