When I was little, my mom told me that if she had to choose to save one thing from our home, it would be our family albums she had assembled through the years. “They’re the only thing that can’t be replaced,” she would say. Thus, the preciousness of photos was born within me at a young age. I grew up looking at younger versions of myself, remembering through photos what would have otherwise been lost. I grew up seeing pictures of my parents as children and thinking how odd it was to be looking at the face of someone distanced by decades of time. Photography is truly an act of remembrance.
I am fascinated by the subtlety of human interaction – the way a glance or smile can communicate contentment, ease, or deep affection. The act of capturing moments in time, suspended in a light matrix, is pure magic.
Nothing excites me more than seeing how light can completely transform an object. There is no greater joy than seeing the first morning rays peek through my windows and dance along the walls. For an hour, my room is filled with unbroken rhythms. I am a light-chaser. Everything changes when it comes into contact with Light.