Black Rider Studios

Some families make you work for the photograph.

The Montes mostly made us keep up.

We spent the afternoon wandering around Mormon Rocks with them, where their little guy did what kids do when you give them dirt, rocks, and absolutely no reason to stand still.

And that was kind of the point.

We weren’t interested in making them look like some perfectly behaved family from a picture frame aisle. We wanted them.

Mom and Dad being affectionate. Their little guy exploring. The three of them holding hands and making their way through this strange stretch of desert together. The quiet moments that lasted about twelve seconds before life started moving again.

That’s what I like about photographing families this way. Somewhere between the portraits you planned and the moments you didn’t, you start getting something that feels less like a photoshoot and more like a record of who these people were together at this exact point in their lives.

And against those enormous sandstone formations in the Cajon Pass, the Montes looked wonderfully small.

Just three people making their way through a much bigger world together.

There was more to that afternoon than we could squeeze into a handful of photographs here. The rest found its way into their story on the blog.

There’s something pretty wild about maternity photographs when you really think about it.

You’re taking pictures of somebody nobody has met yet.

We don’t know what they’ll sound like when they laugh. What kind of trouble they’ll get into. What music they’ll love. Hell, we don’t even know who they’re going to become.

But everybody is already waiting for them.

That’s what made Jackie’s maternity session at Windansea feel less like simply photographing a pregnancy and more like documenting that strange little stretch of time when a family is already changing—even though the newest member hasn’t arrived yet.

We photographed Jackie on her own, with her husband, and with their little boy. Nothing overly complicated. Just them, the rocks, the ocean, a moody San Diego sky, and eventually that little bit of color that showed up over the Pacific.

Someday their newest little one gets to look at these and see what life looked like right before they showed up.

And I think that’s pretty damn cool.

There’s more from Jackie’s session and the story behind it over on the blog. Link in story.

There’s a point during an engagement session when it stops feeling like a photoshoot.

The posing gets quieter. The nerves disappear. And suddenly it’s just two people wandering through the woods, laughing, holding onto each other, and occasionally forgetting that we’re standing there with cameras.

That happened with Kristi and Carlos on Sunday.

We started beneath the trees and followed the light until the forest opened up and San Diego County seemed to stretch forever below us. Somewhere along the way, everything became a little less about making photographs and a lot more about letting these two be themselves.

Which is exactly where the good stuff usually happens.

At the end of October, we get to pick up their story again—only next time, they’ll be getting married.

For now, here’s a little of what happened before that chapter begins.

And if somewhere out there feels more like you than four walls ever could, maybe that’s where we should tell your story too.

There are sessions you photograph, and then there are sessions you feel.

Briana’s was the latter.

We went out to Borrego Springs with two dresses and a very clear idea of what each one meant. The black dress represented Briana as she is now—the most honest, intimate and unfiltered version of herself. The white wedding dress belonged to another chapter. It represented the person she was when she got married and a life she was finally ready to leave behind.

So we burned it.

Along with photographs, wedding books and pieces of a life that no longer belonged to her.

There was nothing celebratory about watching it burn. It felt more like mourning. Like finally giving something an ending. When there was nothing left but smoke and ashes, there were hugs and tears.

And that’s why the desert mattered too. Borrego Springs can be brutal, dry and unforgiving—and somehow, life still grows there.

So does Briana.

This session was never about becoming someone new. It was about letting the old chapter burn and walking away as the woman who was already there.

Briana’s full story is now on the Black Rebel Photography blog. Link in story.

Some sessions feel less like posing for photographs and more like documenting what a family feels like together.

We photographed the Wards in Scripps Ranch back on January 28, 2025, surrounded by trees, fallen leaves and that warm winter light San Diego occasionally gives us. We mixed the portraits everyone expects with the moments I’m always looking for—the kids on their own, Mom and Dad together, siblings, and the whole family simply existing in the same space.

That balance has always been important to us. A little direction, then enough room for personality and connection to take over. Family portraits that feel polished without losing the people inside them.

The Wards’ full session is now on the blog. If you want to see what a Black Rider Studios family session can actually look and feel like, this is a good one to start with.

Link in story.

A little preview from Mikayla and Sam’s engagement session in La Jolla.

The sky stayed gray, the ocean was restless, and instead of fighting any of it, we leaned right into it. Dark clothes, bare feet, wet rocks, crashing waves—and these two completely wrapped up in each other.

This is the kind of engagement session I love. Nothing overly polished. Nothing that feels like you’re performing for the camera. Just the two of you, some direction when you need it, and enough room for the real stuff to happen.

Mikayla and Sam, you two absolutely killed this.

More from this one soon.

DM to inquire about your engagement session.

Lauren and Austin originally had something completely different in mind for their engagement session—an open grassy field, something soft and romantic.

Then winter happened. No flowers. No lush field.

But after seeing another session we photographed in Palomar Mountain, the plan changed. And I’m glad it did.

We found pine forests, patches of snow, dry mountain grass and that beautiful late-afternoon light coming through the trees. I went into the session wanting something romantic and soft, but Lauren and Austin brought their own energy to it. They were playful, completely comfortable with each other, and so obviously in love that I found myself directing them less and just letting them be together.

Sometimes the best photographs happen when the original plan gets thrown out the window.

Their full Palomar Mountain engagement story is now on the blog.

A little preview from Yamila and Alex’s engagement session in La Jolla.

The marine layer rolled in, the light disappeared, and instead of fighting it, we leaned into it. Dark rocks, cold ocean, a little moon hanging above them, and that soft blue-gray light that made the whole coastline feel almost unreal.

Some days California gives you golden light. Other days it gives you this.

And I’ll take this every time.

Yamila and Alex, somewhere between the ocean and the clouds. More from this one soon.

DM to inquire about your engagement session.

A new little person has entered the house, and suddenly everything feels different.

We spent some time with Lily and Alejandro at home celebrating the debut of Titiana—the newest member of the family. No elaborate location. No need to make it something it isn’t. Just the three of them, their dog, their couch, their bedroom, their backyard, and this brand-new chapter of their life together.

That’s what I love about photographing families at home. Years from now, these rooms won’t look exactly the same. Titiana won’t fit in their arms like this. Life will move on, because it always does.

But for a little while, this was home. This was them.

Welcome to the family, Titiana.

DM to inquire about an in-home family portrait session.