| Mon, May 17, 2010 |
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| Caitlin & Blair |
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| It is going to be a Caitlin and Blair kind of week on the Megan Boone Photography blog. And really, I can't think of a better kind of week to have. |
| I shot their wedding a mere days after this shoot. I was beyond impressed with how happy and relaxed they both were. I'm not so sure most brides are this serene 3 days prior... |
| My favorite. Why am I such a sucker for kissy engagement shots? |
| There are a handful of prime examples of why I have the best job I'd like to show you. One, it is not uncommon for people to say, "Hey, let's go practice dancing in that field over there." Most people don't hear that while working. |
| Two, we get to hang out in front of libraries. |
| Three, there are shopping breaks. |
| It was hailing on me during this photo. If you look closely, you can see the concern Caitlin had about it in her eyes. I didn't care though, because we had a grand time! |
| More photos of their gorgeous wedding to come! |
| Mon, May 3, 2010 |
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| One More |
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| Because it is a rainy Monday and I want some color. |
| Fri, Apr 23, 2010 |
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| Morgan & Trevor |
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The novelty of living this close to California still hasn't really worn off. I know it sounds a bit hokey to say that, but it is soooo true. To be able to say that I had to pop down to Cali for a quick photo shoot honestly thrills me. I have been feeling more and more lately, that I am morphing into a West Coast kind of girl. I mean, I use ground turkey in my chili now. Oklahomans simply just don't do that.
So for this shoot, I was excited not just about the California aspect, but also the specific town. I have a fondness for Yreka after a particularly fun road trip with my dad a few years ago. I also just can't seem to get enough of Gold Rush towns. That cowboy-meets-Victorian aesthetic is a great example of function and form coming together to make art out of life.
Then pair all of this with two of the most laid-back, ready-for-ANYTHING couples, and man, oh man, you get a terrifically great shoot. |
| That wonderful California light that can't be replicated... |
When Morgan suggested that we shoot in the downtown area, I IMMEDIATELY thought about this little barber shop. I was very taken with it on my first visit there. I really, really wanted to shoot in there, but I was nervous about asking. I ask to take pictures lots of places, and you can never really gauge if people will give you the "yea" or "nay," and usually if I'm turned down, I shrug it off and move on. I really didn't want to get shot down on this one though, so I got somewhat manipulative, and took pictures in front of the window so the guys in there could see us. I even flashed a few Scarlett O'Hara simper-esque smiles their way. After I felt the wheels had been greased as much as they could be, we went in, told them what we were doing, and the guy says, "Of course you can, I remember you from a couple of years back. You came in with your dad and a little kid. You really liked it in here."
WHA?!!! He was right, I really did. So not only did he let us come in, but he even gave us props! So fantastic. |
DISCLAIMER - DO NOT CONTINUE TO SCROLL DOWN BEFORE READING!!!
...because I got some 'splainin' to do. At various points in my life, I've always set up non-negotiables with myself. You know, those little vows that you make with yourself and believe deep in your heart of hearts you will never go back on. When I was in the seventh grade (and fully entrenched in the Grunge movement) never shopping at J.C. Penney was a non-negotiable. At some point a couple of years ago on a road trip, I vowed never to eat at Arby's. These are just a couple of examples; there have been many non-negotiables over the years. Some I've stuck to better than others (never use plastic bags...unless you forget to put the canvas ones in your car AGAIN). BUT the unfortunate thing about vowing is that sometimes you just go back on your word. Whether it is is a four-year-old asking to please PLEASE eat at the "red hat house" (Bren code for Arby's) or a sale on towels, sooner or later those things that were once non-negotiable somehow get negotiated.
Enter photo shoots on train tracks. Now, I'll preface this as delicately as possible because I know a lot of photographers read my blog and I also know that a lot of them LOVE to shoot on train tracks. And please believe that by no means do I want to offend; I have no other clever way to phrase it, other than I just HATE photo shoots on train tracks. Not. My. Thing. So how did we wind up here? I'm not sure. For one thing, we were having FUN. We had already snuck into a Masonic temple and considered jumping a massive barbed wire fence if it weren't for that pesky alarm. And I think when it was proposed that we hop in the car to go to the non-negotiable, Morgan described it as being named the Blue Goose (interesting), and then maybe said something about an old train depot. Which, OBVIOUSLY, one would equate old train depot with, you know TRACKS, but for some reason I was picturing a depot on its own. And remember, I am from Oklahoma, and am subsequently a sucker for a good depot.
So, that is my disclaimer. I did a photo shoot on some train tracks. And guess what? It was a pretty great adventure and I'm so glad that we did it. |
| Absolutely SO looking forward to your wedding, guys. Thanks for such a great day! |
| Thu, Apr 15, 2010 |
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| Teesha & Jake |
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Whenever I encounter a really terrible vacation or other experience, I always make the joke that "Well, we'll get a good story out of it." At the moment, a certain night of bingo comes to mind....It is true though, that terrible events make for great conversation. Perhaps this is why the Irish are such fun people to talk to — they'll weave you tales of great misery, all with a wink and a smile.
But all of this is a problem when it comes to blogging. The truth of the matter is that I like what I do. More than that, I get to choose who I work with, which means that I like them, too. Invariably, this leads to really great photo shoots. And as bad experiences produce good stories, really good experiences lead to...boring blogs.
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I really do just find myself wanting to gush like a school girl after shoots like this.
LIke OMG, we had like soooo much fun. And we got like pictures that are like soooooo OMG pretty. |
| This one is my favorite of the day. I think kissing in the rain outside of Saks is truly perfection. |
| I think it is best to put absolutely no explanation of this. |
| I must also add, while gushing about how perfect and wonderful everything was, that it was a real treat to shoot in downtown Portland. I have never, ANYWHERE, had such polite bystanders. Everyone would dodge out of camera range while passing by, or just flat out stop and wait for me to be done. If only people in Ashland were so kind... |
| If you haven't gotten the notion of just how deeply cool and in love Teesha and Jake are, then I will leave them to be more of a mystery to you until their wedding. Because, man, they are STELLAR folk. |
Case in point, when we were done shooting, they wanted to give away the balloons to an unsuspecting kiddo.
Yup. It was a very, very, good day. |
| Mon, Apr 12, 2010 |
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| Vicarious |
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| I don't know who this is but I'd sure like to be friends with her. Or at the very least steal her shoes and bike for the afternoon. |
| Fri, Apr 9, 2010 |
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| Wes Works! |
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Does he though? My friend Wes has had his website under construction for far too long.
Perhaps this picture will light the fire... |
| Wed, Feb 17, 2010 |
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| Brittany & Aaron |
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| At this point I still have no words for this wedding. Every detail was so beyond A-MAZING. So instead of even trying to find the right things to say, I'll just rely on the photos to do the talking. |
| More to come as I can, once again, not decide on just a handful. |
| Wed, Oct 21, 2009 |
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| All I See is Flowers |
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It seems that with each passing wedding season the flowers get better and better. This is a compilation of a few of the last weddings I've been processing.
Oh, and a free photoshoot goes to whomever can name the reference that I grabbed that title from. |
| Tue, Sep 15, 2009 |
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| London Calling |
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If there is only one steadfast rule in party throwing it is this: You must MUST have a theme. I dare anyone to prove me wrong on this. I mean, think about the year that your own birthday parties started to take a turn towards blahsville. Around 12-years-old, right? You might have just blamed it on the pre-pubescent tendency to be too cool for everything, including your own birthday. Oh, how you were wrong, though. I guarantee it is only because that was the first year you told your mom that you were much too old to have He-man plates and matching napkins.
When the husband asked if we could do fish & chips for his birthday dinner, the plan was set into motion. |
I was really surprised at just how easy it was to amass so much British stuff in so little time...
Authentic beans from White's Country Farm and cheese from Market of Choice. |
I learned that British food isn't terribly photogenic. Considering that I hail from the land of BBQ and mushy pies, this fact doesn't deter me from knowing that just because it doesn't look pretty doesn't mean that it is any less delicious.
This was my first go at beans and toast. It won't be my last. These people know how to do breakfast. |
| No British party is complete without a new birthday Joy Division shirt. |
| The remnants of an "Anarchy in the UK" scavenger hunt. |
Now, before you think that we ate all of the food that I'm posting within a two-hour time slot, I'd like to acknowledge that this was an all-day event.
Welsh Rarebit ( snagged this recipe off of Jaime Oliver's forum, but it wasn't his)
INGREDIENTS
20g butter
1 cup grated chedder cheese
1 teaspoon mustard powder
dash of Worcestershire sauce
¼ cup of beer (Newcastle, of course)
METHOD
4 thick slices of sourdough bread or a crusty loaf of your choice, toasted. I used Tuscan Loaf; I think sourdough is just to sour for this...
Melt the butter in a small saucepan. Add cheese, mustard powder, Worcestershire sauce, and beer. Stir until smooth.
Spread over the toast and grill until bubbling if desired.
Best Rarebit recipe that I've tried yet! |
| I'm Oklahoma wedding-bound and off to pack, so I won't get around to telling you about the best fish & chips known to man. For now, it will stay a secret. Sah-ee. |
| Thu, Sep 3, 2009 |
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| Wedding Food |
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I have a complicated relationship with wedding food. No, I'm not talking about that sort of 'secretary from 1994' kind of complicated where I say things like, "Oh you're so bad for having all this delicious food and now I'm going to have to be bad and eat it ALL!" It drives me crazy when people do that. Just eat the damn macaroons or don't; there's no need to get all Cathy about it.
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| To describe what I mean by complicated we have to go back to the 80's, when I was about six. For whatever reason, I attended an exorbitant number of weddings as a child. Not only that, but I remember two summers straight where it seemed like I was also in more than I could count. I'd like to say that I was asked to be a flower girl so many times not because I was cute and of the right age, but because I was just sooooo good at it. I remember practicing with my mother and a basket of little scraps of paper: one step, drop two, one step, drop two. (Timing and petal ratio are the two key aspects of being an outstanding flower girl.) I tell you all of this not to necessarily brag about how many weddings I was in (no doubt that you're impressed though), but to set the stage of just how exciting they all seemed to be. I mean, not only did I have a starring role in the show, but I got to wear the prettiest dress of the day; after all, it was the '80s, and my dress usually far exceeded the bride's when it came to twirl factor. You add cake, balloons (again, '80s), music, and dancing to all of this, and you have yourself a perfect mix of true six-year-old excitement. When I look back on all of it though, it really is the food that made the occasion. |
| I think that every little girl has only one goal in life: to be 30, and thus sophisticated. It was at weddings that I could suspend the reality of being a kid and let my true self out, or at least what I thought was my true self. And boy-oh-boy, I fancied myself quite the elegant lady. I would feast on ice-cold jumbo shrimp laid out ceremoniously on dainty, clear plastic plates (with just a dab of cocktail sauce, of course). I would sit on a rental chair near the dance floor with said plate precariously perched on my lap and a plastic champagne flute filled with a Shirley Temple (with extra cherries). Later, if I was lucky, there would be stickiy-sauced cocktail sausages complete with toothpicks that I could carry around on a napkin while I worked the room telling my requisite dirty joke to distant relatives. These were good times, and ones that I always felt were little glimpses into my future. |
Like all of us have, I began to realize that getting older wasn't going to be nearly as elegant and sophisticated as I was sure it would be. It started with a prom, where I found myself trying to learn the two-step just because my date was cute and that is what was apparently expected of me. Midway through I remembered that I don't like to two-step and that prom was not quite what I had anticipated it would be.
It is comforting, though, to realize that as things change, they ultimately stay the same. I still attend an exorbitant number of weddings. I still look at brides through the eyes of a six-year-old and have to force myself not to trace the beading with my fingers or ask them if their dress twirls very well (I'm happy to add that most of them do these days). I still give lots of pointers about the proper way to hold a bouquet or how many petals the flower girl should drop per step. |
| But the relationship with food, sigh, has grown more complicated. For one, the food itself has come a long, long way since the '80s. The cocktail sausages have been replaced with spicy satay sticks; the jumbo shrimp are now wrapped in prosciutto. But as different as it may be, it all still sits in those familiar aluminum chaffing dishes on top of crisp catering linens, beckoning to me, pleading with me to please, please put down my bag and camera and forget about all that silly work stuff. To grab a plate (rarely plastic though) and find a chair to daintily eat and feel as sophisticated and party-like as possible. Have no fear brides, I never give in, and on hour seven when I have to eat to stay alive, it usually consists of me snarfing a roll in the kitchen while the catering crew is cutting the cake. Hardly sophisticated, but still more so than dancing the two-step. |
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