• DC Elliott

Danielle & Neemah


There is some history here. The first time I ever met Danielle, her and Kari talked for about 2 hours in the little lobby at the old studio. By the time they were finished I found them both crying and hugging, and there was a connection. She sent us a link to her website and we even got to hear some of her music. We’ve been in touch through emails and visits as the days and months have ticked by, and the pages of their story were written. It was awhile before I got to meet Neemah, because he works on the East coast. He finally got a chance to break away and come home for their engagements last year. And he had some stacking up to do, because by then we knew Danielle very well, and for some reason I had the mentality that this guy had better do right by her. Don’t ask why, I’m just the photographer I know, but for some reason she reminds me of my little girl, and I see my Abby in her. (So you can understand, 10-15 years from now, any boy that comes to my house looking for my daughter will still be having a date, except it will be with me. And we’ll be driving to the shooting range, where things will be made point-blank clear…)

At any rate, Neemah did stack up. He stood by his bride through the thick and the thin, and he was there for her. The culture from his Iranian family is very rooted, rich and beautiful in many ways, and it was interesting to capture the dynamics of two cultures merging, all because of love.

The wedding ceremony was beautiful, the day was crisp and the air was sweet. And now we have to close the chapter in their book until the next one is written, when hopefully they’ll come back with little ones in tow, and we can continue the friendship. I guess I’m going to have to learn to have a little patience.

P.S. Danielle’s kid sister chased me around with a camera for awhile, but in the end, I think my shot of her settles who won that little contest. whatdyathink? 😉


P.S.S Since this post, Danielle has emailed the shot her sister got. You decide. Don’t you think mine is better. I got the tongue…c’mon…no contest.

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