I'm a wedding and portrait photographer living in Vancouver, BC with my husband Randy.  I photographed my first wedding when I was only 17 years old - and I've photographed over 200 weddings since! I am an avid bookworm, lover of green tea, pretty nail polish & my Labradoodle Harley. Thanks for visiting!

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You Are My Home

May 21, 2014


Six weeks ago, we flew home from our honeymoon in Honolulu. After the six hour flight and the hour drive home from the airport we threw our suitcases into the corner and crashed in bed. It was well after midnight and we were exhausted. As we lay there in the dark, I thought, This is now our home. Not Randy’s, not mine, but ours. It was my first night there (“at Randy’s place”) and suddenly I was overwhelmed with emotion. This was my home (as a literal fact) but in my heart, it felt far from being my home. My home has never been here. My whole life, I had traveled the world only to return to my room. A room dismantled, a room no longer. Everything felt unknown.

With an emotion I couldn’t name or understand, I started to cry. When Randy heard my tears he turned to hold me. I cried as he held me tight, praying for me, and eventually, drifted off to sleep. It felt like a silly thing. To be so happy, content, loved but still experiencing the emotions of change. Change isn’t easy and I’m learning, this is normal. And it is very much okay to feel things.

It’s been seven weeks of marriage and six weeks of routine at home. Every day gets better. We learn more every day. We love more every day. We learn (Okay, I learn–Let’s be honest) more patience every day. We trust one another more every day. We need one another more every day. It’s the best journey I have ever lived. I am an overflowing bucket of tears what feels like constantly. It’s comical. Tears come when I’m thankful, grateful, hugging Randy after work, looking into his eyes, reading a book, watching baby whales on TV. I tell Randy falling in love with him “broke me.”

I know what it is to love someone more than I ever thought possible and perhaps feeling that depth of emotion has unlocked a dam of tears held back for years.

“Randy, two months ago, I was laying in this very bed with you. I was sad. And you held me while I cried.
But now,” I said as I kissed his shoulder, the tears welling up in my eyes, “You are my home.”

He squeezed my hand. “And you’ve been mine for quite some time.”

The evening view from our Ilikai condo balcony.

Before dinner self-timer portraits.

A morning view.

The best dang tacos in Waikiki.

A secret little spot called “The Spitting Caves.”

A drive one day to Lanikai Beach.

The image above this and below are on the drive to Laie.

Below, four photos from the Whale Watching and Snorkeling trip we did on a catamaran with only eight other passengers in Waianae.

Thanks for reading this little space of mine. It honestly means so much. I love writing and I love sharing and it’s nice to have people who care to read and comment. Thank you.



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