I picked up a camera because I was scared of forgetting.

After losing my grandmother to Alzheimer’s, memories stopped feeling permanent—they felt fragile. So I started capturing everything. The quiet moments, the messy ones, the ones that don’t seem important until they suddenly are.

Around the same time, I was going through my own darkness. I didn’t always feel like myself, but I could still see beauty in other people so clearly it almost hurt.

That’s where this all started.

Now, photography is how I hold onto moments—and show people what they don’t always see in themselves. Not the perfectly posed version, but the real one.

The way you laugh when you forget anyone’s watching.

The way you reach for each other without thinking.

The in-between moments that feel the most like you.

My sessions are relaxed, guided, and never forced.

You don’t have to know what you’re doing or try to be anything other than yourself.

If you feel deeply, even if you think you’re not photogenic, you’re in the right place.

I’m here to give you more than photos. I’m here to give you something you can hold onto.