When I left The Times after two decades as a photojournalist, everyone assumed I'd start "directing" couples. Telling them where to stand. Asking them to look at each other and laugh.

I tried it once. It felt wrong. Like asking a soldier to re-enact a firefight for a better angle.

Here's what I learned covering conflicts from Kosovo to Afghanistan: the best images happen when people forget you exist.

At a wedding last month, the groom's father quietly wiped a tear during the speeches. Nobody saw it except me. That photo will mean more to that family in 30 years than any Pinterest-perfect pose in a field.

The wedding photography industry has become obsessed with directing. But your clients' grandchildren won't care about trendy poses. They'll care about what actually happened.

If you're a photographer who wants to stop performing and start documenting, I built a community for exactly that. We break down real weddings, review each other's work, and sharpen the instincts that separate a photographer from a photojournalist.

No shot lists. No presets. Just the craft.