Award-Winning New Orleans & Destination Wedding Photographer
I’m Mo Davis, a wedding and event photographer, culinary photographer and travel+leisure photographer based in New Orleans, Louisiana. For more than two decades I’ve photographed weddings around the world, creating timeless imagery that honors love, family, and legacy through film photography.
Documentaries, museums, and the unmistakable voice of Sam Cooke feed my soul. Anita Baker and Aretha Franklin are permanent fixtures on the soundtrack of my life. I’m endlessly captivated by the grace, discipline, and fluidity of ballerinas.
My nephew is the cutest collection of cells the universe has ever assembled. I remain convinced that somewhere, the perfect fedora is waiting for me. I’m a serial loner, a true Aquarian, and happiest anywhere I can hear the water. I’m unapologetically a mama’s girl—we’ve always been attached at the hip.
Champagne and solo travel are the greatest companions I’ve ever known. Photography is the work I was called to do, and writing is where I continue making sense of the world. Every wedding, every city and every conversation reminds me that beauty is worth preserving and stories are worth telling.
My life has a purpose.
My life has a purpose.
My life has a purpose.
How did I get here?
I’ve been asked this question a number of times and the answer never shifts. My life is a reflection of love and labor.
It’s a result of prayer and promise; an homage to the generations who stood before me. I’m my ancestors wildest dreams. I’m a premonition of a completed assignment. I grew up with high expectations and high praise. The interiors of my life were filled with women who worked, sacrificed and pushed me beyond my limits. My entire existence is gratitude to the 100th power.
I’m thankful for a career that has allowed me to see the world and to photograph the people around it.
I’m grateful for a community in rural Alabama that continues to water my seeds. I’m forever indebted to my tribe in New Orleans who encouraged me to make this beautiful city my home. Most of all, I’m thankful that I listened to my heart and I know how it sounds when God places his hands on it.
PROUD TO HAVE BEEN NAMED A TOP PHOTOGRAPHER
Holding more degrees than a thermometer, my sisters are the most intelligent, capable women on the planet.
The professor. The attorney. The poet. The artist. The giver. The taker. The smart aleck. The screamer. The mover. The shaker. The baker. The way-maker. The negotiator. The music lover. The drama queen. The unicorn. The one hopelessly devoted to André 3000.
I’ve never known anyone who could annoy me quite like my sisters—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My mother’s face changes depending on which one of us walks through the door. She already knows who’s coming before a word is spoken. My dad has finally retired from his lifelong roles as chauffeur, mechanic, and emergency roadside assistance. These days, we’re on our own.
Every one of us is wired differently. Different personalities. Different gifts. Different ways of seeing the world. But the moment we’re together, it’s as if we become one person again—laughing at the same jokes, finishing each other’s stories, and speaking a language no one else quite understands.
I’m Qiana’s eye for art.
I’m Mia’s ear for music.
I’m Niya’s sarcastic mouth and sensitive spirit.
And when life asks more of any one of us than she can carry alone, we become one another’s strength.
I am my sisters’ keeper.
It’s my mama’s favorite song.
From the moment I was born, my family carved a path that allowed me to flourish beyond belief. My steps have been ordered, guided by generations of people who taught me that giving up was never an option. Their lives became my inheritance long before I understood what they had endured.
The stories told around our kitchen table were both joyous and solemn. Those conversations shaped the way I photograph today. They came from a time when injustice was ordinary and hope often felt like an urban myth. Those stories weren’t shared to dwell on hardship. They were reminders of resilience, sacrifice, and responsibility. Every time I heard them, I understood a little more that my existence carries the weight of those who came before me.
My cousin Kim always says, “I can show you better than I can tell you.”
In our family, that’s more than a saying—it’s a way of life. We don’t announce our strength. We live it. We don’t boast about perseverance. We demonstrate it.
My mama grew up in a house with seven siblings. My daddy grew up with thirteen. Together, they gave me a family tree rooted in determination and sustained by love. Many of those branches belong to remarkable women who have stood in the doorway and blocked my foolishness more than once. Those same women welcomed me to the kitchen table, where they taught me that the best recipes are remembered by heart, not by measuring cups.
We don’t measure in this family.
We don’t measure ingredients.
We don’t measure success.
Most importantly, we don’t measure love.
