My dad printed everything.

 

He shot on film and he printed on film. Kitchen table mornings, garden afternoons, trips to the seaside and the ordinary weeks in between. Those photographs are still around. You can hold them. They haven't gone anywhere.

 

What he didn't do was print the digital ones. And that's where things get murkier. Hard drives fail. Cloud subscriptions lapse. Phones get lost or upgraded and the migration doesn't quite work. The thing you thought was safely stored somewhere turns out not to be.

 

A print is different. It exists in the world. It sits on a shelf, or in an album, or in a box under a bed where someone finds it thirty years later and stops what they're doing.

I think about this a lot when I'm editing weddings. These images are not just nice to look at now. They're the version of you that your children will one day find. The proof that you were young and nervous and happy and completely certain about this one thing.

 

That deserves more than a folder on a laptop.

 

I don't have a strong opinion on format. An album, prints, a canvas, all of it works. What I do feel strongly about is that your photographs should have a physical form somewhere. Something you can hold. Something that doesn't need charging.

 

If you'd like to talk about printing options when we work together, just ask. It's something I'm always happy to help through.