My cousin got married yesterday, and she asked me to take photos during the ceremony. I said yes, of course, because I’m always happy to help. But. When the day arrived and I was there, I almost choked. I hadn’t realized what kind of responsibility it meant. This was their day, and I was there to make sure they got some pretty pictures to remember it by. What if I screwed up?
I haven’t been able to look through the photos yet, because today I helped mom host a dinner party, but I will. Tomorrow. I took a total of 933 photos. At least a couple should be good, right? Otherwise, I’m the worst cousin ever.
But, in case I failed everything else yesterday, let me just say: I was gorgeous, in a apricot colored dress and amazing hair. Obviously nothing compared to the bride’s beauty, but I felt good. I had actually made an effort, which happens rarely with me. However, there is no proof. You’ll just have to imagine it. I was the photographer. We’re behind the camera, by definition.
Katja Malmborg 