Last weekend I went with Caroline and Khadija to a wedding. Regulars might be surprised that it was the first time I have ever taken a camera to one. Making good pictures with an old-fashioned SLR can be a bitch, but some days everything seems to go pretty well:

the bride and groom duck under confetti and bubbles

[click to enlarge]

Sadly it’s not just your performance at the event that counts; what you do when you aren’t taking photographs matters too. At some point that afternoon a piece of crud I had failed to keep out of my little rucksack found its way between the World and the film. This is the kind of image that makes keen amateur photographers want to cry, but for all the wrong reasons:

flower girl throws rose petals

[click to enlarge]

And there were others that I am too miserable to share with you. Being women, C and K will make warm, reassuring noises about how they still love the picture anyway. Being a man, I will respond to those warm, reassuring noises as I would to the sound of fingernails scraping a blackboard.

I’m off to Jessops. See you all later.