ANDREW BOLT WEDDING PHOTOGRAPHY | OUTDOOR WEDDING | NORTHPORT WEDDING PHOTOGRAPHY | CANDID WEDDING PHOTOS | HUNTINGTON WEDDING PHOTOGRAPHY
NORTHPORT WEDDING PHOTOGRAPHERS
Once upon a sun-kissed morning in Long Island, I grabbed my camera and tiptoed into a world where love unfolded like delicate origami. My mission? To immortalize moments that would echo through time, bridging generations with the magic of imagery. Also, to avoid tripping over my shoelaces. But that’s another story.
Weddings—the grand symphony of vows, laughter, and stolen glances—became my canvas. I clicked the shutter, feeling like a memory architect. Each kiss, each tear, held the promise of eternity. I envisioned albums passed down from grandparents to grandchildren, whispered stories of love shared over faded photographs. And occasionally, a candid shot of Uncle Bob doing the Macarena.
My commitment was unwavering. I polished my lenses, calibrated my focus, and chased light like a caffeinated squirrel chasing acorns. The bride’s veil billowed in the salty breeze; the groom’s nervous smile softened by the promise of forever. I captured it all—the stolen kisses behind rose bushes, the dance floor twirls, and the champagne toasts that tasted like joy.
But let’s talk about the quirky interlude. Picture this: a rustic barn reception, fairy lights twinkling, and guests swaying to melodies. I had just set my camera down for a breather when it happened. The DJ cued up a classic love ballad, and my heart swayed along.
“I will always love youuuu…”
I couldn’t resist. I joined in, belting out the chorus with gusto. My voice, usually reserved for whispered directions during shoots, soared like a lark. The crowd turned, eyes wide, and I reveled in my impromptu performance. The spotlight found me, and for a moment, I was the star of my rom-com.
And then, the universe played its cosmic prank. Just as I hit the high note, the music halted. Abruptly. Like a needle scratching a vinyl record. I blinked, mid-lyric, realizing that everyone was staring—not at my vocal prowess, but at my off-key, solo serenade. The DJ had decided to switch to the chicken dance. Yes, the chicken dance. My serenade was squashed like a bug on a windshield.
You see, I’m hearing impaired. My world is a symphony of muted notes, a dance of vibrations. But in that moment, I’d forgotten. The guests exchanged amused glances, some stifling giggles. I blushed, my cheeks matching the crimson roses in the centerpieces. And there I stood, the Long Island photographer who accidentally auditioned for “American Idol: Barn Edition.”
As the embarrassment subsided, I realized something profound. Photography isn’t just about capturing what we see; it’s about listening—to stories, to laughter, to the unsung melodies of life. My hearing impairment had taught me to listen with my eyes, to hear the unspoken vows and silent promises. Also, to double-check if the DJ was about to pull another musical rug from under me.
So, dear reader, here I stand—a Long Island photographer, weaving love stories into pixels, one click at a time. My work isn’t just about freezing moments; it’s about thawing hearts. And yes, sometimes I still burst into song at weddings, hoping the music won’t abandon me mid-chorus. Because life is too short not to sing—even if it’s off-key and interrupted by the chicken dance.
If you ever spot a photographer humming “Eye of the Tiger” during the cake cutting, know that behind the lens lies a heart brimming with memories. And perhaps, just perhaps, those imperfect notes will find their way into your family album, etching laughter and love for generations to come.
Remember, love is our canvas, and every frame tells a tale. And sometimes, it also tells us to stick to photography and leave the singing to the professionals.
