I think a lot about time—how it moves too fast, how childhood feels endless until suddenly it’s gone, how the smallest moments become the ones we wish we could return to. The way a photo, when it’s real and honest, can bring it all back. A laugh. A touch. The feeling of being home.

I think a lot about the photos I wish I had—memories from childhood that exist only in my mind, moments with my siblings playing in the backyard. They weren’t documented the way I want to remember them. That’s why I do this. Because time moves quickly, and photography is a way of pressing pause.

I grew up thinking I’d work in film. I studied documentary filmmaking, obsessed over light and composition, and planned on telling stories through motion. But somewhere along the way, I picked up a camera to take photos instead of video—and it felt right. I started photographing my friends, trying to freeze all the little moments that felt like more than just a snapshot.

These days, I care less about perfect images and more about real ones. I like when things feel a little messy, a little wild, but full of heart. I love people who show up exactly as they are.

If we work together, I want you to come away from your session feeling like you weren’t just photographed—you were seen. That your family, just as you are right now, is worthy of being remembered. That your love, your joy, even your chaos, is art.

A little about me: I’m happiest outside, especially in the mountains. I love traveling anywhere I can—Alaska, Iceland, Italy, and anywhere that feels new. I read a lot—fantasy novels, memoirs, anything I can get lost in. I rock climb with my boyfriend, Josh, and I’m learning to sew. But more than anything, I love the simple, good things in life—slow mornings, shared meals, deep conversations, and the people who make life feel full.