A musician must make music,
an artist must paint,
a poet must write, if he is to
be ultimately at peace with himself.
What a man can be, he must be.
(Abraham Maslow)
Grooms
The spotlight in any wedding falls upon the bride. It’s a given, it’s a cert: it’s ‘her Big Day’. We men allow our brides the ultimate power of veto as decisions are made in the run up and on the Big Day itself. You might call this phenomenon the ‘yes dear’ syndrome. She can ask any question, make any request, insist upon an apparently random stipulation – at any time – and the answer, invariably, is ‘yes dear’.
In the groom’s eyes, the only Big Question that is of any concern is the one she already said ‘yes’ to. A wedding is the successful culmination of courtship; the bride is the prize that the groom has won and in this victory, the colour of the napkins and the subtleties of the seating plan are mere details.
His wedding day is an expression of a man’s nobility. On this day, he vows to be a good husband, he dreams of being the ideal father. He sees, perhaps for the first time, a certain nobility in his own father, the mantle of family responsibility that will, one day, pass from one generation to the next. He sees the man he can become.
There will be laughs along the way, and John Brandwood will capture them; but there will be moments of reflection, too; moments of pensive contemplation at the enormity of the ceremony and what it means. A mans’ wedding day may well be the culmination of a hundred ‘yes dear’ conversations: nevertheless, it is a day in which a man celebrates his love for his wife, even as he steels himself for their future together.
that which is truly honourable
(Mencius)
As the day ebbs and flows, as emotions drift and tears are never far away, John Brandwood collects the moments as a small boy might collect seashells on a beach. You will be glad that he does.