Christabel Devadoss Photography

09/04/2026

Having these views for a week was pretty magical.

Sunrises, sunsets, and twilight reflection.

05/23/2026

05/15/2026

Five new custom framed prints ready for Art By the Falls July 6th and 7th at the Cleveland Metroparks Polo Fields.

05/11/2026

I find the opening of Braiding Sweetgrass powerful when thinking about the places we enter as visitors — especially now, when what little progress we have made is being reversed. Some stories are being actively removed while others are treated as the only ones worth telling. “On one side of the world were people whose relationship with the living world was shaped by Skywoman, who created a garden for the well-­being of all. On the other side was another woman with a garden and a tree. But for tasting its fruit, she was banished from the garden and the gates clanged shut behind her.” The land, as Kimmerer writes, “bears the scars of that meeting, the echoes of our stories.”

05/06/2026

I hiked about 13 miles this day with a friend when I was about 12 weeks pregnant with my second child as I had done two years earlier in Colorado, pregnant with my first. In the midst of beauty, I thought often about how the landscapes that my children will see as adults will be far different than those I saw in my lifetime. Part of me captures these images so they know what the world used to be like. Another part of me hopes that a majority of the human species are not selfish and will hold accountable those in power who continue to destroy our future.
(Source: Bakken-French et al)

04/30/2026

So much of photography is about the landscape itself, but also about relationships and how we explore places with people. Our friendships influence the circumstances through which we explore place, how we contemplate the challenges that we face as humans, and perhaps even how we can become more thoughtful while moving through spaces that don’t belong to us.
(Sources: Ecola State Park, Oregon Public Broadcasting map - Beverly Law, NRDC)

04/27/2026

When I first visited Grand Prismatic Lake in 2012, I was thinking more as a tourist — someone who wanted to photograph the beauty of our national parks. But as I reframe the art for the wall, I find myself returning not only to that long drive from Cleveland to Yellowstone, but to my own journey as someone who, in my late 30s, feels the weight of climate change with greater urgency than my younger self. And I can’t help but wonder: what future do we leave those who come after us?
Sources Included: Yale 360 (2021), Washington Post Climate (2025), Greater Yellowstone Climate Assessment, (2014)

04/25/2026

I have a few shows coming up and I’ve been thinking a lot about process. The framed photo on the wall, the image itself, the journey to take that photo, and of course, the implications for our future. What are the ethics of photographing such places as art? There is the practice of documenting the ice itself - the beauty of it. And then the reflection on what that means for our world. Therein I find the intersection of beauty and sorrow.