SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA - There are couples who need a few minutes to forget that a camera is pointed at them.

Izzy and Sam did not have that problem.

Not for five minutes.

Not for five seconds.

From the beginning of their engagement session at Balboa Park on January 26, 2025, these two were just...them.

Flirting.

Laughing.

Leaning into each other.

Looking at each other like somebody had just passed them a note in high school asking:

Do you like me? Check yes or no.

And somehow they both keep checking yes.

That was Izzy and Sam.

Izzy came to us wanting beautiful architecture for their engagement photographs.

Well.

Balboa Park isn't exactly struggling in that department.

You can practically throw a camera in any direction and hit an arch, a tower, an old doorway, a column, some ridiculously beautiful piece of Spanish-inspired architecture, or another photographer doing exactly the same thing.

That's also the problem.

Balboa Park gets photographed.

A lot.

And there's nothing wrong with using the famous spots. They're famous for a reason.

I'm not going to pretend the California Tower isn't there because I want to prove how artistic I am.

That would be stupid.

But I also don't want every couple who hires us to receive somebody else's Balboa Park session with different faces pasted into it.

So we use the usual suspects.

Then we go looking for trouble.

Shadows.

Hallways.

Windows.

Stone stairways.

Little corners people walk straight past because they're trying to get to whatever landmark Google told them they needed to see.

Those are usually the places that interest me.

Sometimes the photograph isn't hiding in the biggest building.

It's hiding twenty feet away from it where the light hits a wall strangely.

Or underneath an arch where half the scene disappears into darkness.

Or next to a window where everything suddenly gets quiet.

That's what I mean when I say I want to give our customers a different perspective of a location.

You should recognize Balboa Park.

You just shouldn't feel like you've already seen the photograph.

Here's where photographers occasionally take more credit than we deserve.

Yes, I'm looking for the light.

Yes, I'm thinking about composition.

Yes, I'm watching the background.

Yes, I'm deciding when to step in and direct something.

But sometimes you get two people who bring the thing you can't manufacture.

Chemistry.

Izzy and Sam had it.

They seemed like teenagers in love.

And I don't mean immature.

I mean that pure version of being completely fascinated with another human being.

That phase where touching each other's hand still feels exciting.

Where you're constantly looking at each other.

Where everything is funny because you're together.

Where you haven't become too cool to show everyone how much you like the person standing next to you.

They were really into each other.

Beautifully so.

That became the strategy.

Don't screw it up.

I'm serious.

When people are giving you something real, sometimes the worst thing a photographer can do is interrupt every thirty seconds:

Put your hand here.

Turn your chin.

Move your foot.

Look at me.

Now look at each other.

Now pretend to laugh.

No.

Izzy and Sam were already giving me the photographs.

My job became creating the conditions for those moments to happen and then recognizing them when they did.

I gave enough direction to keep the photographs intentional.

Then I let them be themselves.

Because there wasn't one moment during this session where I suddenly thought:

There they are.

They were there the whole time.

That's what made them so cool.

That's one of my favorite things about engagement sessions.

I don't want the experience to feel like you're working for the photographs.

I want you walking around with the person you're going to marry.

Messing with each other.

Talking.

Kissing.

Dancing in the middle of Balboa Park because apparently that's what we're doing now.

Meanwhile, I'm watching.

The light.

The architecture.

The shadows.

The way your hands find each other when nobody gives you instructions.

And somewhere between all of that, we're making art.

Half the time, you shouldn't even realize we're doing it.

That's the fun part.

We still used the recognizable pieces of Balboa Park.

Of course we did.

The architecture was one of the reasons Izzy wanted to photograph there in the first place.

But I wanted the park to support their story instead of becoming the story.

So we moved between those grand architectural views and smaller, stranger spaces.

One minute they were tiny figures underneath a massive doorway.

The next they were pressed against each other inside soft window light.

Then black and white.

Then deep shadow.

Then Izzy alone for a moment, sunlight cutting across the wood behind her.

Then back outside.

Then dancing.

The park kept changing.

Izzy and Sam didn't.

They stayed connected through all of it.

This is the slightly painful part of this story.

Izzy and Sam didn't end up booking us for their wedding.

We were outside their budget.

And I was genuinely disappointed.

Not because I thought:

Damn, there goes another booking.

I wanted their wedding because of them.

Their vibe.

Their energy.

How outgoing they were.

How much fun they were to photograph.

You spend enough time doing this and you learn that certain couples bring something with them that makes you want to keep creating.

Izzy and Sam were that kind of couple.

I'd love more customers like them.

People willing to show up, be themselves, have fun, love loudly, and trust us to figure out what to do with all of it.

Sometimes it works out.

Sometimes it doesn't.

That's business.

But I'm still glad we got this chapter.

“omgomgomg we love them”

Then I sent Izzy the previews.

Her response:

“omgomgomg we love them”

That's about as Izzy-and-Sam as a review could possibly be.

No formal evaluation.

No lengthy critique of tonal range.

Just:

omgomgomg

Perfect.

Because the session wasn't formal either.

It was alive.

People sometimes treat an engagement session like the appetizer.

Something you do because it comes with the wedding package.

I don't see it that way.

This stage of your relationship only exists once.

You're not married yet.

You're planning.

Imagining.

Probably stressed about money.

Probably arguing over a guest list involving relatives one of you hasn't seen since 2009.

But underneath all of that, you're still standing at the beginning of something.

That's worth photographing on its own.

Because years from now, the wedding won't be the beginning anymore.

It'll be history.

There may be careers.

Moves.

Kids.

Bills.

Hard seasons.

Really good seasons.

Ordinary Tuesdays.

That's life.

And I hope when Izzy and Sam eventually look back at these photographs, they remember how beautiful the start was.

How easy it was to reach for each other.

How much fun they had together.

How completely into each other they were.

Like teenagers in love.

And I really hope they never lose that fire.

That's probably the simplest way I can explain an engagement session with Black Rider Studios.

Come be together.

We'll give you direction when you need it.

We'll find the shadows.

We'll find the strange corner nobody else noticed.

We'll photograph the famous location without giving you the same photographs everybody else has.

And somewhere while you're laughing, kissing, walking, or wondering why I suddenly got excited about a patch of light hitting an ugly wall...

we'll make something beautiful.

We intentionally limit ourselves to five portrait and engagement shoots per month because we don't want to turn people into an assembly line.

Every couple deserves our attention.

Every relationship has its own personality.

Every location deserves another look.

And if you're anything like Izzy and Sam?

Don't tone it down for us.

Bring all of it.

We'll bring the camera.

Tell us your story and let's make some art before you even realize we're making it.