When I was 20 years old, I accidentally & fully fell in love with photography. A soul shaking, thirst quenching, logic defying kinda love. You know. I spent all of my days barefoot in the woods, floating in the water, camera around my neck. Within months I dropped out of college (where I was studying anthropology) & quit my job (as a certified party pro at party city), because I knew with no doubt that this… photography, was where I could find the art of life.
If there’s one thing about me - it’s that I’m an all-in kinda girl.
I’ve often been called a “magician,” and while I understand the sentiment I’ve truthfully never identified with that word. Everything I photograph, was always in front of us. I’m more like a kid, who’s on a forever carousel ride… with a bow tied to her high pony and a rainbow painted cheek, running dizzy back in line… meticulously searching the fairgrounds for someone who wants to ride again.
There’s something inherently nostalgic about photography - that brings me back to being that girl in line at the carousel. I still remember what it was like to be 5 years old, bangs freshly cut by the kitchen scissors, and to hear my papa calling me over for one of his enchanting stories. He’d tap his knee, a sure invitation to hop on up, and don’t forget the glistening eyes. It all makes so much sense, now. When I put together a print box or an album for my clients, I want it to feel like being called up onto papa’s knee for the story of a lifetime. He still has those glistening eyes. I never want to forget them.
Like the color of my hair, who exactly I am right now is a thing of transience - so, I’ll only attempt to explain my core. And really that’s why my camera found me. I wanna feel purpose. I wanna make something out of who we are, right now, together. Radical presence while our paths intersect. And ya know what? If we do that… we’ve surely done something transcendental.