Amelia Soegijono Photography

Amelia Soegijono Photography Enchanting and whimsical storytelling
Available in France, Italy and Australia
Based in Sydney

Because in French, we  dreams instead of having them ~ Laetitia C.Wedding Planning and Styling:  Florals: Photoshoot Loc...
29/05/2026

Because in French, we dreams instead of having them ~ Laetitia C.

Wedding Planning and Styling:
Florals:
Photoshoot Location:
Hair and makeup: .makeup

Because in French, we  dreams, instead of having them ๐Ÿค ~ Laetitia Wedding Planning and Styling: Florals: Photoshoot Loc...
29/05/2026

Because in French, we dreams, instead of having them ๐Ÿค ~ Laetitia

Wedding Planning and Styling:
Florals:
Photoshoot Location:
Hair and makeup: .makeup

Because in French, we  dreams, instead of having them ๐Ÿค  ~ Laetitia Wedding Planning and Styling: Photoshoot Location: H...
29/05/2026

Because in French, we dreams, instead of having them ๐Ÿค ~ Laetitia

Wedding Planning and Styling:
Photoshoot Location:
Hair and makeup: .makeup
Florals:

Little arms wrapped around me this morning, excitedly saying, โ€œHappy Motherโ€™s Day, Maman!!โ€The last few weeks have been ...
10/05/2026

Little arms wrapped around me this morning, excitedly saying, โ€œHappy Motherโ€™s Day, Maman!!โ€

The last few weeks have been very difficult for our family. As I reflect on motherhood, the scene of my mother beside my brother in his final days came flooding back to me.

If you feel my life is full, multiply that by a hundred and you will begin to glimpse hers ๐Ÿฅน. Five children, a business, a farm, social groupsโ€ฆ A calendar no one could keep up with, an an event she was meant to lead out of town just days later.

That morning, she had already left early for the farm, a few hours away. My brother woke and realised she was gone. He called her and said, โ€œI need you, Mom. Please donโ€™t leave.โ€

She made a U-turn.

She dropped everything and returned to his bedside. Morning, day, and night, until the very end ๐Ÿค

My mother was not always present in the way I imagined mothers to be when I was little. There were no goodnight kisses, no mother-daughter dates. She was often busy, often unreachable. I used to resent her absence and her impossibly high expectations.

But becoming a mother myself has softened and widened my understanding of love.

I may not have received gentle words or warm embraces in the ways a little girl longed for, but she sacrificedโ€ฆ she gave me an overseas education. She gave me three languages. She gave me resilience, adaptability, courage, kindness, and the audacity to dream bravely.

The older I get, the more clearly I see her heart.

A mother is not measured by perfect attendance or flawless chapters. She is a mother because of her heart, and that might look different for every stories.

To every mother in the world, Happy Motherโ€™s Day. You are so loved, so needed, and far more impactful than you may ever realise, even if we donโ€™t understand. You did your best, and that is what matters the most. Time will reveal (it did it to me) your heart.

And Mama, I am so deeply sorry for your loss. You were the most beautiful mother for your firstborn son. ๐Ÿค

And I am so proud too. And I want to be like you.

1st frame is a portrait of my mom and my late brother, Ko Wi ~ whom we miss terribly ๐Ÿ•Š๏ธ

26/04/2026

Once upon a time, there was a wall. We felt it was meant to be something more ๐Ÿค

What I saw was a wall finished in plaster. Venetian. A wall with an old soul, somewhere for the eyes, and the heart, to land, rest, and wander. And a masterpiece joinery we named La Banquette, not just beautiful but purposeful, where storage and function are held within, so can host her inspiring industry events with grace and ease.

Viola, untamed yet certain. A real brass lid, aged by hand, stabilised so the patina could live its whole life without apology. Underneath, a solid skeleton and a gas strut, strength and storage dressed in quiet.

Against it, art deco sconces act like jewellery pinned to the wall, dainty and just enough.
On La Banquette: a petite antique bowl from our collection, a vase from .house shaped like petals in full bloom, a glass bowl from for a modern twist. Across the space, a framed film photograph of Chanel in Venice, a quiet nod to the city where Venetian plaster finds its roots, curated to belong in colour and in story, and more than that, to hold the feeling of a place built upon a dream.

Months of brainstorming, designing, and testing came together through hands, time, and love folded thoughtfully into every layer. , our dream client, held the vision alongside her team who rolled up their sleeves, not just to receive but to create, becoming part of the story itself.

The wall always had it. It simply needed a village to believe.

La Vie est Belle ๐Ÿค

For the one and only Lumiere Vision
Design by .maison
Built in collaboration with

Viola
Custom brass lid

The wedding world is its own kind of fairy tale, and I donโ€™t mean that lightly. I mean the kind where you build magic al...
23/04/2026

The wedding world is its own kind of fairy tale, and I donโ€™t mean that lightly. I mean the kind where you build magic alongside people who become more than collaborators. They become chosen family.

Clementine .studio is one of those people. We met through the beautiful chaos of weddings, and somewhere between the flowers and the heart, a friendship found us.

This week I get to support her passion project, Bliss in Provence, a floral retreat that is pure Clementine: generous, gorgeous, alive with la vie est belle energy.

When the heart DNA aligns, it donโ€™t just connect. They recognise each other.โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹

I am so grateful for you and your world .studio ๐Ÿค๐Ÿค๐Ÿค

She doesnโ€™t skate. She doesnโ€™t know the names of every jump, but she knows the name of every dream her daughter carries,...
08/04/2026

She doesnโ€™t skate. She doesnโ€™t know the names of every jump, but she knows the name of every dream her daughter carries, and she holds them as carefully as her daughter holds the ice.

Motherhood isnโ€™t always being the one in the spotlight. Sometimes itโ€™s being the one who holds the coat, who rearranges the entire week around an early session, and whispers youโ€™ve got this before she glides away. Itโ€™s the invisible architecture behind someone elseโ€™s becoming.

Her little girl wants to be an Olympian. A figure skater. She said it the way children say things when they mean it with their whole chest, not as a wish, but as a fact sheโ€™s simply waiting for the world to catch up to.
And so her mum believes her. Fully, without condition.

So they juggle. They rearrange. They show up tired and they show up anyway, because the most important thing a mother can do isnโ€™t to dream for her daughter. Itโ€™s to make sure her daughter never stops dreaming for herself. Itโ€™s to build a life spacious enough to hold someone elseโ€™s wildest, most beautiful ambitions.

This is what love looks like in the in-between moments. Not in the grand gestures, but in the quiet consistency of turning up. Of choosing her, again and again, in a thousand small and unremarkable ways that add up to everything.

To every mother building a life around someone elseโ€™s becoming, this one is for you.

, thank you for being such an inspiration to all of us ๐Ÿค

They fall. They always fall.And still, every year, I show up for the bloom with an expectant heart for their beauty that...
30/03/2026

They fall. They always fall.

And still, every year, I show up for the bloom with an expectant heart for their beauty that is so soothing and inspiring.

Windflowers this morning. Vitamin D and something a little difficult to name.

Hmmmโ€ฆ. Thereโ€™s a kind of courage in loving what wonโ€™t stay. Not ignorance. Not denial, but presence and grace ๐Ÿค knowing petals fall, and choosing to be here anyway, for the moments when they are here.

Shot this morning, chasing light and something that feels like being alive.

๐“๐ก๐ž ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐ˆ ๐ง๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ˆโ€™๐ ๐ฐ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐žI picked up my husband on Thursday. Out of nowhere he said, โ€œI really looked forward t...
07/02/2026

๐“๐ก๐ž ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐ˆ ๐ง๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ˆโ€™๐ ๐ฐ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ž

I picked up my husband on Thursday. Out of nowhere he said, โ€œI really looked forward to this time.โ€

I was bewildered. โ€œWhat time?โ€

He said, โ€œMy favourite time! You know when we were dating and we picked each other up from the airport every month? I loved getting into your silver Holden Astraโ€ฆ and youโ€™d have that big smile and youโ€™d say, โ€˜Helloโ€™.โ€

That chapter ended, but it gave us marriage.

Late last year, my little girl asked me a question that broke my heart:

โ€œAre you always going to be this busy, Mama?โ€

After a long season of prayer, thought, and honest conversations at home, I have made a decision I never thought I would write.

๐ˆ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐›๐ž ๐š๐œ๐œ๐ž๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐š๐ง๐ฒ ๐ง๐ž๐ฐ ๐ฐ๐ž๐๐๐ข๐ง๐  ๐œ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐ฌ ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ž๐ฌ๐ž๐ž๐š๐›๐ฅ๐ž ๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ž, ๐š๐ง๐ ๐ˆ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐›๐ž ๐ญ๐š๐ค๐ข๐ง๐  ๐จ๐ง ๐š๐ง๐ฒ ๐ง๐ž๐ฐ ๐ฅ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฒ๐ฅ๐ž ๐ฉ๐ก๐จ๐ญ๐จ๐ ๐ซ๐š๐ฉ๐ก๐ฒ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐ฃ๐ž๐œ๐ญ๐ฌ ๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐ฅ ๐Œ๐š๐ซ๐œ๐ก ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ•.

I love weddings. Many of my couples met me before motherhood, watched me carry babies whilst learning how to hold both art and family at the same time. Many of you became parents and we grew together.

I love the privilege of being trusted with a day that will be remembered for generations, and there was a time I truly believed I would never stop. But I have to admit that weddings take the greatest toll on my body, and on my capacity.

I still remember the beginning. A 35mm film camera. Dark frames. Blurry images. So many questions. I kept pushing, kept going, and kept showing up through the most enchanting projects and the most challenging ones, from Paris to Bali, New York to Sydney, Lake Como to Taiwan, Beijing to Melbourneโ€ฆ Through tears and hiccups, long flights and longer nights, through uncertainty, resilience, and even a world that paused during Covid.

Over the years, I have held space for an unbelievable number of stories. I have learned that beauty is a language of love. Stories are how we remember. Life is meaningful because of them, and that purpose will never change.

To be continued in comments ๐Ÿค

Luxury is devotion to the vision.Behind what appears effortless is an ocean of preparation. Hours spent studying, dreami...
21/01/2026

Luxury is devotion to the vision.

Behind what appears effortless is an ocean of preparation. Hours spent studying, dreaming, and visualising what may unfold. Backup plans for the backup plans. Stories and frames already living in my mind before the shutter is ever pressed.

Luxury is being loved and held.
It is calm when things shift, presence under pressure, and service that carries the experience with care and intention.

Nineteen years immersed in people and the world of stories has shaped my greatest strength: an instinct for what matters, and when it matters most.

I am for you. I am your team.
Your vision becomes my responsibility, and your dream, my own ๐Ÿค

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Dural, NSW
2010

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