02/27/2026
But it's definitely made me a different one. It's been a little over a year since I lost my dad. Ten days later, I lost my grandpa. At the same time, other painful and deeply personal things unfolded that stretched across the entire last year. It felt like life was stacking grief on top of heartbreak on top of more heartbreak.
This past year the foundation of my entire life has changed. Well, crumbled, really. I've had to find my footing and keep things afloat, and admittedly, I haven't been very graceful at it.
I'm forgetful, and I've made more than my fair share of mistakes, but even though these wounds in my life are still fresh I've genuinely tried to show up and give 100% of myself throughout this past year. Sure, some of that may be out of survival. This is my job, after all, but I've always tried to cradle the specialness of capturing someone's day close to my heart no matter what I am going through.
Pain gives us perspective. And really, perspective is all photography really is. It's noticing. It's cherishing.
I care much less about a timeline or the perfect shots these days. I want the mascara streaks because you're overwhelmed with emotion. I want the tight hugs that last a few seconds longer than planned. I want the laughter that doubles you over. The quiet glances across the room. The imperfect, the unposed. The "blink and you might miss it" moments.
Because I know what it feels like to wish for one more photo. One more voicemail. One more ordinary Tuesday.
I've been unsure of how to show up in this space. It's been difficult to navigate marketing myself when I've been in such a low place. When I really think about it, though, honesty, pain, grief, and vulnerability are just inherently human. At the end of the day showing up as I am, flaws and all, feels better than not showing up at all 🤍
Grief didn’t take my love for this work. It deepened it. And maybe I’m not a better photographer. Maybe I’m not worse.
I am someone who understands, in a way I didn’t before, that this is not just a job.
It’s memory. And memory is everything.
