Sigrid and Chris have this beautiful, effortless silliness. It’s the kind of energy that reminds you not to take life so seriously. There were moments during the portraits where I just had to step back and let them vibrate on their own frequency. No prompts. No "look at me." Just two people who are genuinely, deeply, ridiculously in love with each other’s company.
They did things their way.
No boring three-course chicken dinner. They ordered in the food they actually love. They poured the beer they actually drink. They stripped away the "shoulds" of the wedding industry and left only the "wants."
The result? An absolute riot of a party.
The air in the brewery was thick with it—that specific, electric hum of a room where everyone feels at home. I found myself hunting for the quiet frames amidst the noise. The way Chris looks at Sigrid when she’s mid-laugh. The way they both look when they think no one is watching.
I’m looking at these frames now—the grain, the movement, the spilled beer —and I can still hear the laughter. It wasn’t a "perfect" wedding by a magazine’s standards. It was something much better. It was honest.
Sigrid and Chris, thank you for being exactly who you are. Thank you for letting me document your roots.
This is the good stuff.
