The photographer and the caller, at a wedding in Quinta Nossa Senhora Auxiliadora


There were two sisters. Just like the same and the wedding photographer never was able to tell the differences. If not a small stain in the cheek from one, because the sun in the beach, I would never know which one was always in the front of my lens, to photograph her. She never asked, never pulled me by the hem of the right leg of my pants, like that little girl in the first wedding I ever done, look, now, I want you to photograph me, after running away from my lens all day. I already told that, here.

However, she always found a way to play within a radius of action that gave her the certainty that, here and there, I will find her. She knew how to do it well. She did not pose like those kids used to make faces to the cameras. She slid around the room, she twirl with those eyes asking me to not forget her. The wedding photographer, because he does not like to do the things easy, pretended that did not noticed her all the time, but not because he was a bad person. First because he had a lot to do with everybody else and second because he wanted genuine photos.

I know that the sister will not regret to be out of the attention of the wedding photographer. But if it was not her sister, maybe, that happened and, a few years ahed she will not carry so much memories of the wedding of her parents in this very happy and funny day, for all of them. The wedding photographer smile, imagining one day, when women, and maybe in the eve of their own weddings, they review those photos with so great joy. That is for what he was made for. 

Little girl, in a swing, playing with another one in a wedding.
Little girl, with a painted face, with a ballon heart and a glass in the hands, smiling in a wedding.
A very happy little girl with a painted face and the hands in the head, in a wedding.

Share This:

Leave a Comment

  • (will not be published)