Mine is a funny story with twists and turns. I didn't set out to be a photographer. No, on a pre-med chemistry track in college, I was destined to be a doctor. As a fun elective, I took a photography class, and I was hooked. There is nothing like watching your photograph appear on a pristine white sheet of photo paper, as it floats in a pool of developer in a darkroom.
After years of begging my friends to sit in my makeshift studio with a bed sheet draping down the dorm room wall and a trusty desk lamp for lighting, I took a dramatic turn and changed majors to study fine art photography. This change took me across the country to study in DC, and the rest, as they say, is history.
These days, I revel in the work ahead of me. As someone who lost almost all of the photos from the first decade of my life, I know the value of capturing these moments in print.
We live in an age were we are the most photographed, and the least printed. What will happen when your children ask for photos of you. Will you find them stuck on an old, unreadable cd, or lost in a 'cloud' among the thousands of files? My mission is to hang your portrait on the wall, and hand you a beautiful, handcrafted book of your portraits so that, when the time comes, you won't find yourself empty handed.
It can be so easy to take this job lightly. I mean, we photograph everything these days, camera phone always at the ready. When you shoot professionally, the specifics of shooting in manual, focusing, and making split second decisions to capture that moment -well- come naturally, like breathing. You’re in the moment, making people laugh, loosening nerves, and guiding people into beautiful moments like an effortless choreography.
Until one day it hits us that time has flown by. It's deceiving in the moment, as each minute seems to crawl slowly, like pouring molasses. You blink, and it's a new month, and then a year, and then a decade As every day rolls by, the value in each portrait increases exponentially. Moments captured where the joy and the love between mother and grandmother and child is palpable, and that moment, years ago, seems like yesterday. This is why I do what I do.