ABOUT
The Art of Seeing
Photography found me.
After my great-grandmother, my Nana, passed away, my family began to sort through all of the belongings in her home. Among other things, I found a few old old film camera’s, one which had my great-grandfather’s, my Papa’s name etched into its case.
I knew I wanted to learn more about them. At the time, I didn’t even realize the difference between film and digital, I just knew that there were something about these cameras that drew me in.
I took them into the Tacoma Photo Center, which would soon become my photography home. It was there that I learned the cameras didn’t work, but I was handed a single roll of black-and-white film, a camera from the free camera library, and was sent off to take pictures.
So I went out and photographed.
Then I learned how to develop the film.
Then I watched images come to life while making my first darkroom prints.
And I was hooked.
Learning to Look
For the first six months, I didn’t consider myself an artist. However, I did begin to pay attention to things a little differently.
I began to notice light and shadows,
color,
texture,
the quiet space around and between people.
Photography changed the way I observed the world. It taught me that looking is its own kind of meditative, artistic practice. Along the way, I learned that photographs require creative practice, and that they are result of a special way of seeing and notice.
A Practice in Becoming
Early in my practice, I began working as a teaching artist.
I was riddled with questions and uncertainty, but in both teaching and my personal practice, I found a great sense of community and belonging. I had mentors who believed in me long before I believed in myself. Young people reminded me that curiosity and experimentation is much more valuable than knowing it all.
Becoming an artist, and claiming it as a part of my identity changed my life.
It changed the way I understood myself in the broader context of the world, but also in my own life. And it changed the way I would come to understand this work.
Because of this, photography is not just something that I do, but it is a part of how I move through the world.
To Be Seen
There is something intimate about being photographed. For a moment, you allow someone else to look closely at you. To be in shared, vulnerable space with you.
That is something that I do not take lightly.
My approach is collaborative, attentive, and grounded in the belief that the most compelling photographs emerge when there is enough trust to let something unexpected happen.
You don’t have to arrive knowing exactly how to pose, or exactly who you want to be in front of the camera.
That’s something that we can figure out together. Come as you are, and I like to say: let’s play.
Today
I am a photographer and teaching artist based in Tacoma, Washington.
I work in digital and film, in the studio and in the world around me. I am interested in photographs that feel considered, but alive. Images that have a sense of intimacy, character, sensuality, humor, and room to breathe.
The camera that first brought me here belonged to my family, but this practice became something of my own. And I continue to photograph because there is always more that I am noticing.
There is always more to see.
