From the days of sneaking into high school photography classes while I was meant to be in pottery and wheel, to the days of stealing my dad’s camera while he was out of the house, photography has become like a third lung. I have been persistent, tenacious, and lucky enough to have been able to travel the world in the last three years, with my a camera strap dangling around my neck. Every city in every country I’ve traveled to has pulsed with ingenuity and individuality, waiting to be captured. I find a peace of mind holding a camera in my hands, that I have been unable to find anywhere else. Photography, in its most basic form, is the reproduction of a moment that once was. However, reproduction sounds far too inconsequential to describe the magnificent authenticity that comes with being able to find stillness in a world that is always rushing.

Over the years, I’ve spoken with many photographers about what has inspired them to take pictures. I photograph these places, events, and moments, so they will no longer be fleeting recollections.  Life doesn’t move in slow motion. It moves fast. SO fast. One minute you’re six years old singing in your elementary school holiday concert, the next minute you’re graduating college,  walking down the aisle, buying a house, having children, and watching THEM singing in the (sometimes quite painful) elementary school holiday concert. I photograph landscape, people, heartache, conquest, and all of the cracks in between, so that when I turn and walk away from the experience, it will live forever.

An Irish Lens
The Word “Special” Means Admirable and Capable
Saying Goodbye To An Old Friend
Farewell Winter. I bid You Adieu.
Tangerine
Strangers On St. Paddy’s Day