Wedding Photography London, Leeds, York, Manchester, Liverpool, Bristol and any other place on earth.
The tale of Pink Clouds starts in a little caff. That is where a nice Miss Reporter interviews a nice Mister Graphic Designer from a big corporation (that Mister had been also very involved in swallowing fire from time to time). Suddenly, Miss Reporter eventually led by an impulse, sticks up a paper napkin to her lips while dusting down the crumbs left after her cheesecake and says to the surprised interlocutor: “Really Mister, you are an exceptionally charming man, would you like to be my husband?”.
Few years and one adorable son later, ex Miss Reporter (though still very nice one), and ex Mister Firecharmer (happy as ever) know already, what they want to do in life. They want to photograph people in love. Women in love and men in love, from Aberdeen to Dover, librarians and pianists, dog lovers and cat lovers. They want to photograph all kinds of love, at each moment that is worth recollecting. They want to wake up each morning, thinking: “How wonderful it is to tangle in all this lovely atmosphere”.
We snap then weddingly, pregnantly, familish and partnerish. Commerially and not, colourfully and black&whitelly,. Always with love. And a bit of craziness.
We photograph Catholic, Orthodox, Hindu and civil weddings. But it’s been the first time we went for a pastafarian wedding. And it was a totally out-of-this-world and fantastic event. We drank banana shakes, we ate spaghetti and swayed to the rhythm of New Orleans’ dark songs about monsters from under the bed. The bride treated her guests with a delicious wine straight from the bottle and the groom jumped on the stage and gave a concert on the double bass. We invite you to the world that began from the mountains, trees and a dwarf, the world ruled by His Noodly Appendage which promises its followers a posthumous beer volcano. We invite you to the world of love according to Alex and Aaron.
We fell into a river today. And our wellingtons got full of water. I dropped the bucket somewhere and nearly drowned our make-up artist, and again our car’s boot does not close because of a life ring squeezed inside. Now we must have some onion not to get sick and go to sleep at a considerable distance (preferably back to back). Well, it’s all in a day’s work!
P. S. And for dessert there will be the most romantic piece of the story. During the pioneering river crossing our brave Ivonka lost her wedding ring. And it would have been a disaster and we would have all wept if she and Mikołaj immediately hadn’t come up with an idea to throw the other ring into the stream so that the first ring was not alone in the Świder. And now they lie somewhere in the sand, the two wedding rings. Maybe someday they will be found by some people in love who will then live happily ever after. Just like Ivonka and Mikołaj. Ah!