In 2017, I decided I wanted to be able to photograph a wedding.
Capturing quiet moments after a wedding ceremony
So, I established Caroline Price Photography back in 2017, complete with a proper foundation because I wasn’t willing to photograph a single wedding without a legitimate business structure.
Sparkler exits are a magical way to end a wedding day and make for excellent memories captured forever
48 weddings and 11 five-star reviews between Google and my public Facebook business page later, I closed Caroline Price Photography last May for personal reasons that are now resolved.
Candid moments before the wedding are so important to document in pictures
I’ve deeply missed weddings.
Family moments like this during bridal portraits are so fun do photograph
And more: I’ve particularly missed the ability to provide quality wedding photography at a budget price.
Capturing the beauty of the bride on her big day is a true honor to document in photographs
So, here I am a year later, and I’ve simplified my business structure quite a lot. I’ve pared my gear down to a professional Fuji setup that still delivers the same beautiful colors as before, but is much more sustainable weight-wise for my back on long wedding days. I’ve still got the actual LLC (now as Caroline Price, LLC), and I still have the business license and insurance. I still have the ability to deliver gorgeous galleries, and I’ve refined an even better post-processing style. I’ve updated my process to be more sustainable for me and very easy for you. I’ve also got gorgeous new USB-C photo drives available for clients, as shown below.
The linen box pictured here is available to the first four couples who book in this new season; the rose gold and crystal USB-C drive will be a continued offering
And, I’m ready to open up the calendar to a very limited number of wedding dates.
West Georgia weddings can be beautiful even on cloudy and rainy days
I’m offering a single package: eight hours of coverage for $500 (Includes fully edited photos delivered in an online digital gallery and via keepsake crystal and rose gold color USB-C drive. Please note: to ensure the highest quality without the burnout, my delivery timeline is a relaxed six to eight weeks. Available in the West Georgia and Greater Atlanta areas– A small, flat-rate travel fee applies for weddings located inside the Atlanta perimeter to cover gas and parking depending on select venues). I’m offering my eight years of wedding industry experience, my authentic self, and my very best for your wedding day.
Couples portraits between the wedding ceremony and the reception are a special time. Some couples opt for a first look but I have found that most prefer to have the magic of the first look being while the bride walks down the aisle
The first four to book will receive their keepsake USB-C drive in a beautiful cream linen box as shown above.
Bridal portraits can be beautiful inside as well as outside
I am quite aware that this is an extreme budget level pricing for the wedding industry. But I also know from experience that offering this level of accessibility is exactly where I find the most joy and professional satisfaction in my photography practice.
Window light makes for beautiful bridal portraits. Sometimes the most beautiful settings are the simplest in decor
So, reach out via hello@carolineprice.com or my contact page. Tell me your story. Let’s tell your wedding day story together.
I re-learned today that my brain is double-sided in both pain and beauty, that I can trust the decisions I make regarding my photography, that I made the right decision in selling the gear I sold in June, that I kept the lens I love the most. That my current gear matches the way that I see the world and that I like it that way. That my eyes see beautiful things and that the grief and pain that is inevitable in my daily life is indeed not the full story.
I learned that nature photography is beautiful with a normal-telephoto lens, that time with my husband is sacred, that I married the wisest person I’ve ever met in my whole life.
I came home a little more sure of myself, a lot steadier on my feet, and remembering that there is good with the bad.
It’s 1:07 PM and Jared and I are just getting breakfast. This morning was rough. It is the kind of morning where I move slow and everything hurts and I am not steady on my feet and I fall into Jared when he hugs me in the kitchen.
I’ve resisted writing for a long time recently. I don’t just sit to write. I don’t journal; I rarely do my gratitude list and when I do it feels like platitudes, not the real thing.
I didn’t sleep well last night; I woke up three times.
Since the whole “analytics ate the timestamp on one of my first emails to Jared” night a couple of weeks ago, Jared has slept in the living room.
I knew it was different that night because when he went to the living room, he packed up his CPAP and took it with him. That has been a months-long fight: he goes to the living room to sleep because I am scared for whatever reason, but he will absolutely NOT take his CPAP with him.
Except, now he does. Every night.
And generally, I do sleep better when he’s out here (where I am now writing). Knowing he is the first line of defense in case the random things-I-think-are-going-to-get-in-the-house-but-never-do really does make a difference.
One night in the last couple of weeks I woke up at 4:02 AM. I was sure I’d heard a knock on our bedroom door. I called out my reflex “JARED!” as I always do immediately upon waking when it’s his cue to go investigate the mystery noises that are never there. Jared was already out in the living room. That noise had been so real though.
“I hate my life.”
In those moments there, lying on my side under at least five blankets which include at least a comforter and two heavy fleece-type blankets, it hardly seems worth being grateful.
Facebook does not help.
This morning’s memories included the lovely photo walk Jared and I went on at Hobbs Farm exactly a year ago today. The featured photo is a photo I took on that walk. I thought I’d like to go on another photo walk today…except I sold the 100-200mm lens I used in that walk last year. None of my current lenses are ideal for wildlife photography.
“I wish I’d never gotten into photography,” I wailed at Jared at some point this morning.
I don’t always see the bits I wouldn’t have otherwise seen if I look back at my photos later.
The blog gets random weird bot analytics.
The boys are grown and prefer the company of themselves in their own rooms over spending time out in the main areas of the house.
I feel aimless, unanchored.
And always, always, always…I lament not having a job, not having the prestige of a career, not having substantive income of my own both so that I can help support us and also so I could buy the things I want without guilt.
People I know are not always helpful; just yesterday my own mother said, “Caroline, you should just make yourself do it,” when I was lamenting the state of our dirty house that I am unable to keep up with.
As if it were that easy, proving my family has zero clue as I’ve always known.
I am up now. I have had breakfast, or lunch or snack, or whatever: a protein bar, a tiny cup of walnuts, a very small section of brie, and six fruity jellies from Trader Joe’s.
I won’t allow myself my coffee until I’ve had the entirety of my full water bottle first.
And later, it won’t be so bad. My legs won’t feel shaky when I walk.
Jared says the PTSD is like this. I never remember.
I won’t feel as though I will wilt. I will get a shower for the first time in two days.
But for now, I write, because that’s one of the few things I can do in moments like this.
Sometimes, that’s how I wake up.
It’s 1:07 PM and Jared and I are just getting breakfast. This morning was rough. It is the kind of morning where I move slow and everything hurts and I am not steady on my feet and I fall into Jared when he hugs me in the kitchen.
I’ve resisted writing for a long time recently. I don’t just sit to write. I don’t journal; I rarely do my gratitude list and when I do it feels like platitudes, not the real thing.
I didn’t sleep well last night; I woke up three times.
Since the whole “analytics ate the timestamp on one of my first emails to Jared” night a couple of weeks ago, Jared has slept in the living room.
I knew it was different that night because when he went to the living room, he packed up his CPAP and took it with him. That has been a months-long fight: he goes to the living room to sleep because I am scared for whatever reason, but he will absolutely NOT take his CPAP with him.
Except, now he does. Every night.
And generally, I do sleep better when he’s out here (where I am now writing). Knowing he is the first line of defense in case the random things-I-think-are-going-to-get-in-the-house-but-never-do really does make a difference.
One night in the last couple of weeks I woke up at 4:02 AM. I was sure I’d heard a knock on our bedroom door. I called out my reflex “JARED!” as I always do immediately upon waking when it’s his cue to go investigate the mystery noises that are never there. Jared was already out in the living room. That noise had been so real though.
“I hate my life.”
In those moments there, lying on my side under at least five blankets which include at least a comforter and two heavy fleece-type blankets, it hardly seems worth being grateful.
Facebook does not help.
This morning’s memories included the lovely photo walk Jared and I went on at Hobbs Farm exactly a year ago today. The featured photo is a photo I took on that walk. I thought I’d like to go on another photo walk today…except I sold the 100-200mm lens I used in that walk last year. None of my current lenses are ideal for wildlife photography.
“I wish I’d never gotten into photography,” I wailed at Jared at some point this morning.
I don’t always see the bits I wouldn’t have otherwise seen if I look back at my photos later.
The blog gets random weird bot analytics.
The boys are grown and prefer the company of themselves in their own rooms over spending time out in the main areas of the house.
I feel aimless, unanchored.
And always, always, always…I lament not having a job, not having the prestige of a career, not having substantive income of my own both so that I can help support us and also so I could buy the things I want without guilt.
People I know are not always helpful; just yesterday my own mother said, “Caroline, you should just make yourself do it,” when I was lamenting the state of our dirty house that I am unable to keep up with.
As if it were that easy, proving my family has zero clue as I’ve always known.
I am up now. I have had breakfast, or lunch or snack, or whatever: a protein bar, a tiny cup of walnuts, a very small section of brie, and six fruity jellies from Trader Joe’s.
I won’t allow myself my coffee until I’ve had the entirety of my full water bottle first.
And later, it won’t be so bad. My legs won’t feel shaky when I walk.
Jared says the PTSD is like this. I never remember.
I won’t feel as though I will wilt. I will get a shower for the first time in two days.
But for now, I write, because that’s one of the few things I can do in moments like this.
On December 10, with the help of Google Gemini and Google AI Studio, I started drafting a Guided Reflective Journal.
I didn’t quite know what I wanted to do with it at the time, other than to use it myself in 2026.
Tonight, I am speedily finishing up the formatting of the 105-page document. Now that it’s almost finished and will be ready by January 1, I know what the plan is:
Anyone who wants it, is welcome to the finished PDF, for free. I have created a private Facebook group and the Guided Journal will be available as a downloadable PDF file within that group. The group is for discussion of the prompts throughout the year.
If you’re in, click the link I’ll add you to the group! Please note that due to the nature of this particular group, I am personally approving each member to ensure our community remains a safe space for reflection.
Journaling has enriched my life in so many ways throughout my 46 years, and what I can say from looking over these prompts is that some deep reflection is going to happen.
