17/08/2026
I have one wedding left.
Next May. After that, twenty years and more than 450 weddings will come to a stop; the bag goes in the cupboard, and that's where it's staying.
I'm not stopping work. I'm changing it.
For two decades, my job was taking the pictures. From here on, it's making sure they end up somewhere they'll actually be seen. Bursill Albums is bespoke album design — proper albums, designed one spread at a time, printed and bound to last generations rather than years. Alongside that, I restore damaged photographs and bring colour back to old black-and-white ones.
The new website went live this week: https://bursill.com
Now, the part I really wanted to say.
If I photographed your wedding, there's a good chance you never got an album. Most couples don't. You got a set of files, and you meant to do something with them, and then life happened — the house, the job, the children who are now old enough to roll their eyes at you.
Those pictures are still on a hard drive somewhere. Or a laptop you don't switch on anymore. Or a cloud account you can't remember the password for.
Go and look through them this week. Not for me — for you. Look at how young the pair of you were. Look at your mum and dad in that group shot on the lawn. Look at whoever made the speech that had the room in bits.
Some of the people in those photographs won't be with you now. I know that, because over the years I've had those emails, and they're the ones I remember. Every single time, what people wanted was a print, or a page — something they could put in someone's hands.
A hard drive fails without telling you. A book on a shelf gets pulled down by a five-year-old on a wet Sunday and opened on the living room floor. That's how a wedding day gets passed on.
If you still have your files, I can work from them. If you don't, message me and I'll see what's still in the archive.
Four hundred and fifty weddings, and I'd count it a privilege to finally make yours.
Ian
