The Blog

I think one of the reasons I fell in love with photography so early is because I grew up surrounded by it.

If you have spent any time searching for photographers here in Western North Carolina, you may have also come across Wendy Frederick Photography floating around online somewhere. That is not a coincidence. Wendy is my mum, and photography was always quietly woven into my childhood because of her. Some of my favorite memories growing up are tied to the photos she took and the way she documented our lives so intentionally. Looking back now, I think that is where a lot of this started for me long before I ever realized it.

I was the kind of kid who did not just want to live in a moment. I wanted to keep it. I would spend hours watching old home videos and flipping through photo albums, completely fascinated by the idea that you could freeze time without even realizing how important it would become later. The grainy footage, the shaky camera work, the laughter in the background that no one paid attention to at the time, all of it felt meaningful to me.

I loved the feeling that photographs carried more than what was actually visible in the frame. They held emotion, atmosphere, memory, and pieces of stories that you could almost feel even years later.

That curiosity followed me into high school when I signed up for an elective photography class. Honestly, I did not think much of it at first. I just thought it sounded interesting. But the second I picked up a camera and looked through the viewfinder, something clicked for me.

I started noticing everything differently. Light through classroom windows in the afternoon. Shadows stretching across empty hallways. Tiny expressions on people’s faces that lasted half a second before disappearing again. The world suddenly felt layered in a way I had never paid attention to before.

I loved it immediately.

One of the earliest photographs I ever took is still one I think about often. It was a single purple flower growing directly in the middle of an empty road, perfectly placed between two faded yellow lines. Nothing about it was dramatic or staged, but I remember stopping because it felt so out of place in the best way. Something soft and delicate in the middle of asphalt and motion. That photo became important to me because it taught me something early on that I still carry into my work now. Some of the most beautiful things are usually the ones people almost miss.

After that, I brought my camera everywhere. Friends, sports games, small moments, random drives, everyday life. I documented constantly without really realizing I was teaching myself at the same time. Eventually people started asking me to bring my camera places, and slowly I became the person documenting memories for everyone around me.

By seventeen, photography had become much more than a hobby. It had started shaping the way I experienced the world.

Right before college, my mum and I drove from Florida to Idaho over the course of two weeks, and that trip completely changed me creatively. It was the first time I had really experienced landscapes that made me stop in my tracks. The Grand Tetons barely felt real, and Yellowstone felt alive in every direction. Steam rising out of the earth, colors in the water that looked impossible, wildlife moving through spaces that felt untouched. I remember standing in those places realizing how massive the world really was and how badly I wanted to capture even a fraction of what it felt like to be there.

Right before college, my mum and I drove from Florida to Idaho over the course of two weeks, and that trip completely changed me creatively. It was the first time I had really experienced landscapes that made me stop in my tracks. The Grand Tetons barely felt real, and Yellowstone felt alive in every direction. Steam rising out of the earth, colors in the water that looked impossible, wildlife moving through spaces that felt untouched. I remember standing in those places realizing how massive the world really was and how badly I wanted to capture even a fraction of what it felt like to be there.

When I got to college, I started working in a photography studio, and that was where I really began learning the technical side of photography. Lighting, composition, posing, studio work, all of the things that happen behind the scenes to intentionally create an image. It challenged me in a completely different way because I had always approached photography more emotionally and instinctively. Learning the structure behind it helped me grow so much.

I also found such an incredible creative community here, and somewhere in the middle of all of that, I photographed my first wedding.

That was the moment everything fully clicked into place for me.

Weddings are emotional in a way that is hard to describe unless you have experienced one from the inside. There are hundreds of moments happening all at once. Quiet ones, chaotic ones, joyful ones, emotional ones. As a photographer, you are constantly moving through all of it while trying to preserve the feeling of the day as truthfully as possible.

When I finished that first wedding, I remember realizing that I was no longer just taking photos.

I was helping people hold onto some of the most meaningful moments of their lives.

And I have loved it ever since.

I started meeting other photographers and building connections within a creative community that understood the same pull I felt toward documenting life. And then I photographed my first wedding.

That experience changed everything. A wedding is not just a single moment. It is hundreds of moments layered together, all happening at once. Joy, nerves, silence, chaos, stillness. Moving through it felt like stepping into something bigger than myself.

When it was over, I realized something had changed permanently. I wasn’t just documenting life anymore. I was helping people remember the most important parts of it.

And I never looked back.

Today

Today, I have been photographing weddings for four years, and it still feels surreal sometimes that this is what I get to do. Alongside weddings, I also photograph proposals and graduations, both of which I absolutely love for different reasons. Proposals are full of anticipation and emotion, and graduations carry this really unique mix of pride, excitement, relief, and uncertainty all at once. I never take for granted the fact that people trust me to document moments that matter so deeply to them.

Looking back now, it is strange to think that all of this started with a kid who could not stop watching old home videos and flipping through photo albums.

But honestly, I think that is still who I am at the core of all of this.

Someone who understands just how important it feels to hold onto a moment before it slips away