Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved photographs.  Old and new.  As a child I would often take out our family photo albums and page through.  As a teen, my friends and I would spend our weekends photographing one another and then run to the store to get the film developed. (We thought the 24 hr photo was a gift!)  As a college kid I took a few photography classes to learn a little more about the facts, you know, f-stops and apertures, ISO and all that jazz.  Turns out I really enjoyed the darkroom process.  (Okay, now I’m really dating myself).  But I think the tipping point for me was, [hang on, I’m switching gears here] two years prior, at the death of my big brother.  When we got the news, I poured over every album for days and nights, and put together two huge collages that were eventually displayed at the funeral home.   It was heartbreaking.  But that was my outlet.  It helped me process things.  It was my therapy.  And those photos were how I could 'see' him again.   I cherished those images.  And that shaped the kind of photographer I am today.

Now, I see life in pictures.  I document every event no matter the significance.  It makes me happy.  It is my creative outlet.  And it is still my therapy.