It was one of those scenes that show up in my nightmares, but this time I was living it. I was on my way to shoot my niece’s wedding a few weeks ago — straight from work, stress at both ends of my 40 minute journey. As I drove (fast enough to irritate other drivers but not fast enough to get a ticket) I was thinking through my strategy: pre-wedding shots in the garden, quirky, fun, spontaneous, creative. Then on to the wedding — high church setting with breathtakingly modern and artful stained glass — that could be fun if done correctly. Nighttime reception would mean some outdoor shooting in the dark — could get dicey. The bride is an art major in graduate school — she knows what’s good and what’s not. Don’t screw up — this is for family. Mind racing. Anxiety building. As the miles ticked by I mentally checked my list of "must-have" shots from the bride and equipment I would need. Did I have enough batteries and memory cards (learned that the hard way). Were my lenses ...
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