DC based; traveled for years… Not posed, not like everyone else’s photos…your family. In real life.
The beauty in the everyday… beauty in the world…what people take when …most prized possessions…stop time/wish you could rewind, if even for a few minutes…photography does that…If there’s one photo that always has the power to transport me back in time… perfectly imperfect all the money in the world can’t buy back those days
it’s a picture I took of my then two-year-old daughter standing in the driveway of our house in Bangladesh, clutching a doll half her size. I remember exactly what I was thinking at the moment I pressed the shutter: savor every moment, because in 16 years, this beautiful child will be moving out and embarking on her own life.
Eighteen years later, just as I was about to release the second of my two children into the world, my father was entering the final months of his life. I had been documenting our long goodbye — he had Parkinson’s Disease — over the previous 13 years, but it all took on a greater urgency in the summer of 2018. In mid-June I flew from my home in DC to Arizona to help my mom care for him after a routine dental procedure. I planned to stay a week. I ended up staying ten. He left us on August 31st.
During those weeks, my camera saved us all. For in amongst the fear and chaos and uncertainty of that time, our collaboration in documenting it helped us to find the humanity, the beauty, and the humor in the time we had together. And in slowing down and being present we were able to really see what was happening—and come out whole on the other side.
Those photos of my parents, and some of the many thousands of photos I have taken of my children over the years are my lifeline. They connect me to what ultimately matters most in this life: the timeless connections we have with those we care about. They remind me to slow down, to trust life, and to embrace all of it.
Having spent more than two decades helping people and organizations around the world to tell their stories, there is one thing I know for sure: everyone’s story matters.
I’d be honored to help you tell yours.