The edit takes longer than the shoot and decides what the work looks like. It is quiet, repetitive, and it is where a set of frames becomes a story with a beginning and an end.
We go through everything once at speed and mark only what makes us stop. No comparing, no zooming, no second guessing. Instinct at full speed is a better filter than analysis, and it leaves a much smaller pile to think about.
Now the frames sit next to each other. Two similar images placed together weaken one another, so one goes. A wide frame after a tight one lets the eye rest. We are building an order a person will scroll through, and the rhythm matters as much as any single picture.
The aim is to keep the feeling of the light that was there. Warmth stays warm, shade stays cool, and skin keeps its own colour. We set white balance by eye against a known neutral in the frame, lift the shadows a touch, and stop. Heavy grading dates quickly and it flattens the difference between one room and the next.
We remove what was temporary — a mark that will be gone next week, a strap, a distraction at the edge of frame. Lines, freckles and shape belong to the person and stay where they are.
Every gallery goes out as full resolution files for print and a smaller set sized for the web. Names carry the project and the frame number so a file can be traced back to the day it came from years later.