I grew up around cameras.

This was back when scrapbooks - you might be too young to remember those - were really common. Before we all walked around with the modern equivalent of an on-demand disposable camera in our pocket.

My mom, a natural talent, jumped on the digital photography train early and ended up being the photographer for most of the school’s sports by the time my siblings and I graduated high school. Soccer, football, track- she was there. If I wasn’t competing, I was helping, though sports photography didn’t really speak to me. It’s hard, respectable work to get shots of athletes in action. I just don’t care much for being stuck on a field in the same spot! But the real experience for me came in terms of post-processing, where I helped her take those tricky nighttime stadium photos and make them sing.

I put the camera down when I left. First the DSLR was replaced by an iPhone. Then I got tired of feeling like I wasn’t in the moment, so I quit taking pictures altogether.

That changed when my partner and lifelong best friend got skin cancer. Coming to terms with the impermanence of… us.

Looking back on two decades of time spent together, realizing how fuzzy the memories were becoming, and knowing we had barely documented our time together was terrifying. Luckily, she’s okay, but that feeling’s stuck with me. I traded in my old gear for some more modern equipment and now I dedicate my spare time to turning memories and light into art you’ll want to look back on.