Fuck. I don’t even know where to start. Maybe with “We’re back!” That stupid line from Youth Of Today’s Flame Still Burns that always hits me right in the gut. It’s a song, sure, but it’s more than that—it’s a mantra. My fucking life. After all the shit I’ve been through, after all the starts and stops, I finally feel it again. That fire. And fuck, I’ve missed it.
Back Then
It started in places that smelled like beer, sweat, and bad decisions—punk clubs and squatted houses. I had no clue what the hell I was doing, just a borrowed camera and some vague idea that I needed to get the fuck out of the life I was trapped in. That trip to London lit a spark I didn’t even know existed. At the time, I was stuck in a job that drained every ounce of life out of me. I mean, what’s the point of getting out of bed when the day’s just going to punch you in the face?
But then, there was photography. It gave me a reason to keep going, a lifeline when I didn’t have one. At first, I played by the rules because that’s what you do when you’re desperate to prove you belong somewhere. But rules are bullshit, and playing it safe felt like suffocating. It took time, but I found my voice. My style. Something raw and messy and fucking real. And that’s when it all started to make sense.
The Highs
2017. I still can’t believe it happened. Being named one of Rangefinder’s 30 Rising Stars of Wedding Photography felt like a giant “fuck yeah” from the universe. Finally, it wasn’t just me saying, “Maybe I’m good at this.” Someone else saw it too.
Then there was Mexico. 2019. That wedding was a dream—everything just clicked. On the flight home, I had Death Cab for Cutie’s I Will Follow You Into the Dark playing in my ears, and I thought about Jana. About us. About everything we’d built together. And I knew. I had to ask her.
New Year’s in Denmark. Surrounded by our closest friends. I popped the question. She said yes. That should’ve been the perfect ending to the perfect year.
The Crash
And then 2020 came. Fucking 2020. A pandemic? Really? Everything stopped. Weddings. Work. Life. I’d never dealt with anxiety before, but suddenly, it was everywhere. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d lost everything—my craft, my purpose, myself.
But then there was Jana. God, she held me together when I was falling apart. We decided to elope—just the two of us. No pressure. No bullshit. It wasn’t just a wedding; it was a lifeline. A reminder that love isn’t about big, flashy gestures. It’s about showing up when everything feels impossible. She saved me.
Finding My Way Back
By 2022, things started to shift. I shot an elopement that stretched across Copenhagen and Iceland, and holy shit, it hit me hard. These two didn’t give a fuck about traditions or expectations. They were real. Their love was raw and unapologetically them. That’s the kind of work I want to do. That’s the kind of work I need to do.
Then came 2023. A friend asked me to shoot her wedding—a punk-inspired, vegan-filled day that reminded me of everything I love about this. Watching her cry over the final slideshow broke me in the best way. This is why I do it. Not for the trends, not for the Instagram likes, but for this. For the stories. For the love.
Right Now
The thing is, I almost gave up. There were moments when I thought the fire was gone for good, snuffed out by all the bullshit life threw my way. But it wasn’t gone. It was just waiting for me to find it again.
And now I have.
Scars and all, I’m here. I’m doing this. I’m capturing love in all its messy, wild, ridiculous beauty because that’s what keeps me alive. That’s what makes sense to me when nothing else does.
So yeah, Flame Still Burns. It fucking does.
