I didn’t come to photography looking for art. At first and at a young age I was just drawn to the camera itself — the mechanics, the gears, the way everything clicked into place. I’ve always curious about how things work. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about the tool in my hand and started becoming about what I was feeling behind the lens.

A few years ago, I joined two workshops — one with a street focus, the other landscape. They changed everything. My eyes adjusted, but so did my perspective. I started noticing not just how a scene looked, but how it felt. The way light fell across empty streets. The quiet between passing footsteps. The sense of memory that clings to mountain air. Suddenly, I wasn’t just taking photos — I was trying to share something of myself.

I’m quiet by nature. I move slowly, often alone. I watch more than I speak. My images tend to reflect that — darker, moodier, sometimes lonely. But there’s peace in those moments, too. And beauty. That’s what I’m always chasing. Not the perfect shot, but the honest one. The one that holds whatever I felt at the time — even if it’s just for a second.

If something in my work makes you pause, makes you feel something you can’t quite name, then I’ve done what I set out to do. Thanks for being here.