This gallery was created during the Love Loud Retreat, a multi-day experience centered around uplifting queer creatives, artists, and vendors through intentional collaboration and community. Hosted by Katelyn Servedio Photography, the retreat brought together artists to create work that felt both expressive and deeply personal.

Inspired by classical imagery and reimagined through a modern, coastal lens, “Birth of Venus” unfolded along the shoreline of Arcadia Beach, Oregon. And somehow, in the middle of January, when Oregon usually leans cold, gray, and unpredictable, we were met with the most unreal gift of light. Soft sun, open sky, and just enough warmth to let everything breathe a little easier. It felt rare, fleeting, and almost too perfect for the moment we were creating.

Working with Ray and Char felt effortless and intuitive. Their connection carried a quiet strength, soft where it wanted to be, grounded where it needed to be. They moved with the environment rather than against it, allowing the ocean, the wind, and the shifting light to guide the rhythm of the shoot.

Every detail contributed to the world we were building, florals by The Slow Cult that felt organic and sculptural, rentals from Arden Event Collective that added texture and intention, and makeup by Shelby Valaer that enhanced without overpowering. The wardrobe, featuring pieces from The Aisle Index and Lacemade, brought a romantic, ethereal quality that tied everything together.

And then there was the cake, a true work of art by Little Banana Bakery. It genuinely looked like a carved statue, something you’d expect to find in a museum rather than on a beach. None of us could quite believe it was real… until it was time to cut into it.

As if that wasn’t magical enough, we even had a few curious bumblebees drifting in and out, drawn to the florals, soft, uninvited collaborators that somehow made the whole scene feel even more alive.

This shoot felt like a balance of elements, movement and stillness, romance and wildness, structure and surrender. A reminder that sometimes the most powerful images come not from control, but from letting go and allowing something to unfold naturally.