I used to steal my sister's digital camera every chance I got. That's where this started — not with any grand plan, just a teenager messing around with a camera that wasn't mine, taking pictures of whatever we were doing that day.

By 18 I'd bought my own DSLR. In high school I took photography as an elective, then kept going with it through college — shooting film, learning the darkroom, spending hours on prints that would probably take thirty seconds today. I fell in love with photographers like Diane Arbus and Ansel Adams, and the thing that stuck with me wasn't the gear or the technique — it was how little any of that mattered next to the feeling in the image. A photo that makes you feel something is a photo that matters. Everything else is just the way you got there.

Then life happened, and I put the camera down for most of my twenties.

I picked it back up this year, and I haven't put it down since. I bought a Fujifilm X-E5 and a Sony A7 IV, and now I take a camera with me everywhere — genuinely everywhere. I'm only about six months back into shooting seriously, and I want to be upfront about that. It's part of why my pricing right now reflects someone building a body of work, not someone with fifteen years in the business. What you get in return is someone who's fully present for every session, still a little in awe of what a camera can do, and paying close attention to every detail because it still feels new to me.

Here's the real reason any of this matters to me: my family lost a large part of our photo albums a while back. Every so often, a picture resurfaces that I haven't seen in twenty years — my parents young, me as a kid, a version of our life I can barely remember but can almost feel. There's a nostalgia to that time before the internet, before everyone had a phone in their pocket, that I can't fully explain. It just hits different.

That's what I'm chasing with a camera now. Not just a nice photo — a moment, preserved, before it has the chance to disappear. However small, however big. Because time moves fast, and most of it doesn't get saved anywhere at all.

A lot of that feeling comes from a specific place and time for me — Pensacola Beach with friends, growing up. Walking around downtown with a camera, just shooting whatever caught my eye. Hanging out with my sister and my cousin, trading that little digital camera back and forth, taking pictures and videos of nothing in particular that I'd give anything to have more of now.

Outside of photography, I'm into music, videography, YouTube, painting, sketching, staying active, and video games — most of it circling back to the same thing, one way or another: making something, or paying attention to something long enough to actually see it.

If any of this feels like your kind of photos, I'd love to shoot with you.