A Note

Photography to me, has been a means of remembrance.   I got into photography more in depth after my mother had a stroke, because she’d left behind a plastic tote of memories.  Rolls of film both developed and not, disorganized, forgotten and haphazardly placed.  A tote full of memories that could never be enough.

 I realized there would never be enough shots to capture who we all were, my family, my parents, myself…but from then on I could try.  I have spent a lot of time trying to create that feeling of wholeness that you can only know before a tragedy, but I’ve realized that those feelings only come when you remember.  And the best way to hold them is in a photograph.

I’ve come to learn that the most precious thing we can make in the time we have, is our memories.  My photography has been for me, a way to reflect on a single second, before the world inside the image could have a chance to change

In experiencing the joy photography has brought me over time, the desire to share with others has become a constant.  I want to give to others the same proof that I find necessary in my own life.  The things I just have to surround myself with as keepsakes that continuously show me what to be grateful for.  

I strive to create clean, light and classic images that can be held as tangible reminders of the beauty that exists around us in our own lives.  I want to capture evidence of the things that make you smile to be pulled out and unshelved on rainy days.  
I want to evoke from an image the way it feels to reminisce on quiet Sunday mornings over a hot cup of coffee or the content calmness that settles on your shoulders when you’re surrounded by the ones you love or the silliness that undoubtedly occurs when you are all together.   I want to decorate my walls with these reminders and be constantly surrounded by love and light.  I’d like to help others assemble their reminders as well.

The images that keep me sane are the ones I carry close to my heart.  They show the expression on my dads face and the softness there in the way he looked at my mom.  Or the coolness in the air when a group of gap-toothed kids fell into piles of crisp, dirty, Autumn leaves.  They show my friends when adventures were as a simple as a drive across the river and the look of their eyes when they’d seen much less.  My mom holding a mug of hot tea next to a November newspaper that read “Life: All aglow again.”  I will never forget these moments, because a photograph exists that refuses to let them become hazy.  I am so thankful for that.  Photography is a gift.  One I'd be excited to help share with others.  If you think for a moment, couldn't you use a few reminders?