I've called Reykjavík home for 14 years. My husband Baldur is Icelandic, and somewhere between the endless winters and the midnight sun summers, this place became mine too.
Most people find me through my elopement photography.
I've been photographing weddings and elopements in Iceland since 2018, and that work has taken me to glaciers, black sand beaches, hidden fjords and places I never expected to see. Along the way I've been named one of the Top 5 Best Photographers in Iceland by Wezoree Magazine, International Wedding Photographer of the Year 2024, and recognised by Rangefinder and Junebug Weddings.
A few years ago I made a deliberate choice to take on only a handful of elopements each year, so I can give each one everything it deserves. That discipline and dedication carries into everything I do.
But newborn photography has its own story, and it starts long before I became a mom.
Before I picked up a camera professionally, I worked with children. I spent time as a preschool teacher here in Iceland, and it was genuinely one of the best chapters of my life. I've always felt at ease around little ones, around the particular quiet magic of early childhood.
When Baldur and I decided to start a family, the road was harder than we expected. We went through multiple miscarriages.
During that time, photographing babies and their families became something much more than a service I offered. It became a way of staying close to something I deeply longed for. I came to understand, in a way that only lived experience can teach, what it means to carry a child, what it means to lose one, and what it means to finally hold one. The weight of it. The miracle of it.
That changed how I approach this work. When I'm sitting in your living room with your newborn, I'm not just there to take beautiful photos, though I'll do that too. I'm there because I genuinely understand how much this moment means. For some families, the path here was easy. For others it involved loss, waiting, fear and hope held together. Whatever your story, I carry a real understanding of what you're holding in your arms.
In November 2025, after everything, our son Matti was born. I had photographed elopements until 30 weeks pregnant, climbed glaciers with my big belly, stood behind waterfalls in the Icelandic wind. And then, finally, he arrived. It was the greatest thing I have ever done, and I still can't quite believe he is here.