I remember we were driving back from somewhere. I think it was London, perhaps after we had been to see Penn & Teller live at the theatre, which was an incredible experience.
Beth was driving, and I was sitting in the passenger seat when she received a message from her sister.
She was asking whether I would take photographs at her son’s prom in a few months’ time.
Of course I would.
It felt a little strange, though. Suddenly, I had something new to focus on and something completely different to learn.
I was not going to be photographing animals, bugs, landscapes or my dogs.
I was going to be photographing people, and not merely in a casual setting, but during one of those once-in-a-lifetime, remember-this moments.
I think, as adults, we sometimes forget how important events like this can be for younger people.
They are transitioning from high school to college, taking a large step forward while many parts of their lives are beginning to change.
Prom represents a full stop at the end of one chapter before the next begins.
Come to think of it, perhaps not even all of the students realise that themselves, at least not at the time.
So, what do I need?
What do I need to learn?
A great many questions entered my brain. Very few answers felt the need to follow.
Still, I thought I had it.
Maybe.
First things first, I went back through the couple portrait spreadsheets I had saved, hoping they might kindly remind me how any of this worked.
Yep. Yep. I remember that.
Got it.
Sweet, I’m sorted.
Right...?
Apparently not, because there still seemed to be some kind of internal pressure system building inside my head, refusing to let me rest.
Something was missing.
I was definitely not ready.
So, I watched YouTube videos. I browsed Instagram, TikTok and Google.
Inspiration, please.
I did not want the photographs to feel boring.
More importantly, I did not want to appear as though I had absolutely no idea what the heck I was doing.
Ambitious, I know.
So, how exactly do you prepare for that?
By the night before the prom, everything physical was ready.
My gear was cleaned, my batteries were charged, my clothes were sorted, and everything was packed.
Everything was prepared.
Except me, apparently.
Why was I overthinking it so much?
Had I allowed the pressure of the event to get to me?
What if the photographs were not any good?
What if I was asked to do something I had not prepared for?
What if I missed something important?
What if...
What if...
What if I simply was not good enough?
And if that was true, what if I was not meant for this?
A cheerful little bedtime thought.
But then...
What if it worked?
Then the day arrived.
We turned up at Morgan’s house, and suddenly this thing I had been preparing for inside my own head was real.
There were people everywhere.
Family, friends, people moving around, people getting ready, people talking, people standing exactly where I was hoping to take a photograph.
Normal event behaviour, apparently.
There was also another photographer there. A real photographer.
Not that I was pretending to be one while holding a camera and hoping nobody noticed, but seeing someone else there with experience, and the general appearance of knowing exactly what they were doing added a new little voice to the collection already living in my head.
Excellent.
No pressure, then.
I could have allowed myself to become distracted by what they were doing, what equipment they were using, where they were standing, or whether they seemed more confident than me.
Instead, I tried to bring my attention back to why I was there.
Jamie.
I focused on photographing him getting ready.
The smaller moments before everything properly began.
Adjusting clothes, sorting details, the quiet preparation before walking downstairs and becoming part of the event everyone had been waiting for.
Those moments mattered to me.
The polished photographs would come later, but this was the beginning of the story.
And then there was the weather.
It was around 37 degrees.
Thirty-seven.
The kind of heat where simply existing starts to feel unnecessarily ambitious.
The sun was also incredibly harsh, because apparently the weather had decided that my first proper event shoot required an additional difficulty setting.
Bright light, deep shadows, people squinting, pale clothing reflecting everything, and very little opportunity to politely ask the sun to move somewhere more useful.
I had prepared for poses (can't remember a single thing), settings (I'll just float around these numbers) and moments (like, "what the hell do I ask them to do now" moments.
I had not prepared for photographing people on the surface of Mercury.
Still, the day was happening.
The light was not going to soften because I felt nervous.
The people were not going to pause while I worked everything out.
Jamie and Morgan’s prom was going to continue whether I felt ready or not.
So I lifted the camera and got on with it.
Beth and I met Jamie when he was already mostly ready.
The suit was on, the main preparation had been done, and what remained were the smaller finishing touches.
We were a room with very little space and not much light, which was ideal if a photographer didn't want good conditions for natural shots, yay photoshop.
Still, it gave me a chance to focus on the details.
I photographed Jamie tying his shoelaces, adjusting his tie and making the final little corrections before everything properly began.
I also wanted to include his watch, but subtly.
Not the obvious wrist-forward pose that makes it look as though the entire prom has been organised around a sponsored product.
Just a small movement of the cuff, a natural position of the hand, and enough of the watch visible for it to become part of the story.
The room was dark, cramped and not especially cooperative, but the photographs felt personal.
They were not really about getting dressed.
They were about those final few moments before stepping outside and becoming part of the day everyone had been preparing for.
Once we had finished inside, we moved out to the driveway.
Waiting outside was the Rolls-Royce.
The setting changed immediately.
We went from a small, dimly lit room to polished metal, formal clothing, open space and sunlight bright enough to interrogate everyone present.
I positioned Jamie in front of the car and began taking the more polished portraits.
The photographs inside had captured the final preparation.
This was the moment the prom properly began.
A little while later, Morgan came outside and Jamie looked over.
There were still plenty of people around, all trying to see, talk, take photographs, or occupy the exact patch of ground that might otherwise have been useful.
I knew we had another location to go to afterwards, where I would have more space and would be photographing Jamie and Morgan by myself.
So I did not feel the need to force my way forward or turn the moment into a small territorial dispute involving cameras.
I took the photographs that naturally opened up and let the rest unfold.
Once Morgan was ready, we brought them both in front of the Rolls-Royce.
This was where I could start photographing them together properly.
The car gave the photographs a more formal setting, and Jamie and Morgan naturally became the focus of the scene.
The sun, however, remained deeply committed to making the process difficult.
It was still around 37 degrees, the light was brutally harsh, and everyone was standing in formal clothing while being slowly roasted on a driveway.
A very elegant form of suffering.
Still, there were good moments between them.
Small looks, slight smiles, and the kind of awkwardness that feels completely natural when two people are dressed for an important event while several adults point cameras at them.
I knew the next location would give me more control, hopefully.
For now, I concentrated on keeping things simple, letting them be themselves, and getting the photographs without making the heat feel even more unbearable than it already was.
Time was ticking by, and that meant only one thing: it was time to move on to the next location.
We had started at Morgan’s house, but we were now meeting at Jamie’s.
Fortunately, I knew something about the area that was going to give us a huge advantage, especially in this heat.
Shade.
Beautiful, dark shade.
Nature’s umbrella from the scorching inferno that continued to slowly cook all of us.
Once we arrived, I let the standard greetings take place. The “heys,” the hugs and the inevitable “you look amazing” comments that come with seeing someone dressed properly for the first time that day.
I then asked Jamie and Morgan if they wouldn’t mind following me over to a small nearby field with a few trees.
The shade softened the harsh sunlight, made the light across their faces far more even and, most importantly, gave everyone a brief escape from being grilled by the sun.
What a relief.
I didn’t want to keep them there for too long.
They still had an actual prom to get to, and the day had already been chaotic enough without me turning their photo session into a three-hour expedition under some leaves.
I made sure to get the photographs I felt mattered most: the two of them together, walking through the field, holding hands, and a few with Jamie’s family.
Then that was it.
I think being beneath the trees was probably a relief for Jamie and Morgan as well, although I doubt it compared with climbing back into an air-conditioned Rolls-Royce.
Some comforts are difficult for nature to compete with.
I came home with over 500 photographs.
How did I have over 500 photographs?
It didn’t feel like I had been taking photos for more than five minutes.
That was how quickly the entire thing seemed to pass.
Still, I wasn’t complaining. I would much rather have 500 photographs to sift through in search of the best ones than come home with 50 and discover that every important shot contained a blurred face, a closed eye or a hand appearing from nowhere.
So, I got to work.
My nine-hour shift at the factory suddenly became an eleven or twelve-hour working day once the evening’s editing was added on.
That is part of it, though. I can’t complain about doing the work when it is the work I actually want to be doing.
It took a while, but eventually I finished with over 50 edited photographs. I uploaded them to the online gallery, sent the link over and then came the hardest part.
The wait.
The “Are they good enough?” thoughts began to appear.
Closely followed by, “If nobody likes these, should I just stop now before I waste any more time and money?”
Although “began to appear” may be too gentle.
They didn’t creep in.
They kicked the door down.
But alas, good news.
One person liked them.
Then two.
Wait.. four?
Five?
Beth showed the photographs to someone, and they asked whether I was a professional.
What?
No.
Not at all.
But…
..Maybe?
To be real for a moment, there was something slightly strange that I felt while editing these photographs.
I have worked in a Tesco Superstore.
I have worked in a factory spraying paint and welding metal.
Then I did this.
My normal work takes energy.
It takes physical effort, mental effort and, at times, a small offering of health and sanity.
Tesco certainly took its fair share of the latter.
The factory can leave me exhausted before the day has properly finished.
Then I come home, knowing that the following morning I will wake up and do it all again.
But editing these photographs felt different.
It still took energy.
It still took hours.
My eyes were tired, my back probably hated me, and I had already worked a full day before I even started.
Yet somehow, this work gave something back.
It gave me purpose.
I had captured a moment in somebody else’s life, and it was now my job to make sure it was preserved properly.
Those photographs may be looked at tomorrow, next year, or perhaps left untouched for twenty years.
But when Jamie and Morgan eventually look back at them, I want them to remember more than what they were wearing.
I want them to remember the heat, the colours, the chaos, the excitement and how that day felt.
For a few hours, I had been trusted to capture a small piece of somebody else’s life.
Then, sitting at my computer, I was able to take the light from those moments and turn it into memories they could keep.
That is something my other jobs have never given me.
They have given me wages, experience and the occasional aching joint.
This gave me a purpose.
To be the person behind the camera.
To preserve the moment.
Turning light into memories.
