For the longest time, I have absolutely loved taking photos.
I wish I had more time to explore this passion, but it all began in art school with a tin, a pin, photographic paper, and a red room.
One semester, we had to create and use a pinhole camera, and my whole world exploded. It was incredible to learn the process, but I also discovered I was good at it. I fell in love with the alchemy of light and time, and I often think about that project with deep admiration.
I don’t have a fancy camera, but when I see something that needs to be captured, my phone comes to the rescue, and I search for the perfect angle.
Often, I don’t take the picture because what I see with my eyes refuses to translate to pixels on a screen. But when the emotion I feel is captured in that frame, I’m elated. It tells a thousand stories while relying on my memory to fill it with meaning and purpose—and that’s beautiful.
For me, taking photos is a deeply intentional act, mostly about finding the small details that others overlook. Every photo I take carries intrinsic value and means something to me that’s usually impossible to put into words.
Being a creative person means I speak in a language of images, always seeking those nuanced moments that may happen again but will never be captured quite the same way.
Photography teaches me that beauty isn’t in the grand gestures but in the fleeting details—the way light falls, the pause between breaths, the stories that live in shadows.
Each frame I choose to keep is a love letter to a moment that trusted me enough to be seen.
