I know how easy it is to overlook the moments we think we don’t want to remember—the messy, imperfect, and ordinary ones that seem insignificant at the time. But when the people we love are gone, we often find ourselves wishing we could go back and take those pictures—the quiet moments, the everyday gestures, the small but meaningful details that time has a way of erasing. My aim is to capture those fleeting moments for you, to preserve the parts of life we sometimes take for granted. These are the memories that, once lost, can never be recreated, and through photography, we have a chance to hold onto them forever.

Growing up, I hated being in photos, never fully appreciating their value. But after losing my parents, I realized how deeply I longed for those moments we didn’t capture. Grief changed my perspective, and I began to photograph because of it. Through the lens, I developed the art of noticing—the small, beautiful moments that often go overlooked. Now, I see the significance in every smile, every gesture, every fleeting glance. Photography has become my way of holding onto those memories, preserving the love and connection I wish I could still hold in my hands. In the photos I do have of my parents, I can almost hear my dad's jokes and my mom's laugh, and in that way, I keep them alive with me always.

And honestly? I photograph because I grieve.