From one tenderheart to another. I’m here to celebrate you and yours.
The hand (or toe) that always meets yours in the dark. Your kitchen dancing partner.
Capital R Romantic.
I carried my Mom’s 35mm Minolta to the eighth grade and documented a year of middle school relationships.
Inspired by Wim Wenders, 90s Prada ads, time spent in raspberry patches and running long distances.
Voted most likely to be mistaken for a family member at your wedding.
I didn’t start with weddings. I started with faces.
I pulled my Mom’s 35mm Minolta out of storage and I used it the way most kids use a voice recorder – to document the people around me.
I made portraits of my parents in the garden. My sister eating strawberries by the window. I photographed friends holding hands at parties, the way they slouched into each other when I asked for a portrait in the yard.
I was obsessed with catching in-between moments, the ones too quick to pose for.
This curiosity carried me through art school, road trips along the Canadian West Coast, and darkrooms perfumed with fixer and anticipation.
Somewhere along the way, a close friend asked me to photograph their wedding – and it felt like everything I cared about had gathered in one place: family, spontaneity, tenderness, light.
35mm film still has my heart.
And I still chase that same feeling I had when I was thirteen – that what’s ordinary now will one day feel sacred.
Our family of three humans and two rescue dogs calls Arcata, California home. Nic Cage movies are our love language, and the van’s eternally full of sand.
