Whitney & Hilary -The Wedding Collection-

The storm is coming. It's always been a Brand New yelling point for me, but It's an unfriendly phrase to photographers, a harsh four word reality for the summer months in Arizona, and I was repeating it in my head as I traveled to Mesa for this couple's bride & groom shoot. We spent forty-five minutes, enjoying endless magic light and challenging time, as a brooding storm grew greedy. Eventually, the squall grew impatient, and we were resigned to ending early, it certainly didn't spoil the attitudes of these two.

I've known Whitney almost as far back as my memories go. We'd have super smash brother battles, dabble in criminal mischief, and occasionally shared birthday parties (we were born minutes apart). His intentions are pure, and abiding. His kindness can almost be confused as weirdness, don't get me wrong he has strange moments, but he is one of my most veritable friends, there is simply nothing counterfeit about him. His sweet way was in full effect in the company of his fiance. Hilary spent the afternoon being sought after, as Whitney showed no self-control. Who's to blame him, Hilary has a smile that'll knock you over, and a youthful vibe (see the table full of classic candy), a sort of sauciness that is instantly magnetic. From them, love is illuminated. This is the wedding day of Whitney & Hilary.

Connor Daly -The Senior Collection-

Somewhere in between his dissection of Lil Wayne’s rap game and his adoration for america’s pastime, it struck me. The saved by the bell version of myself had more in common with this cool kid from Mesa than I had originally thought. When I was in high school, my energy grew from Cash Money albums and dissing on skaters (skaters were different than skateboarders, skaters were the misguided souls who posed as skateboarders, lacked the balance of the former, and walked around with those gargantuan Etnies or DC’s on their feet, the only sneakers wider than freeway lanes.) I was involved in volleyball, and played basketball on playgrounds religiously.

So when Connor explained his passion for baseball and touted rap as his musical preference, he grew on me, quickly. He’s on the side of shy, contemplative, his features are quiet too with the exception of his icy, baby blue eyes that would make even Paul Newman envious. His pride is invested in an equally shaded automobile. A beautiful mustang that could become someones personal idolatry. But his joy came from the small things, the laughs that his buddy provided, the countless exaggerations that I made about his tan line, he felt comfortable. Cool. This is Cool Hand Connor.