My earliest memory of photography was watching my grandpa shooting landscapes somewhere around San Simeon when I was 6 in 1996. Another early photography memory that sticks out was at home, when lived in Los Angeles. I took my parent's Minolta SLR up into the hills above where I lived one day. I remember coming home with it in covered in dust. I'm sure I had no idea how to … [Read more...]

The first time I took a picture was on a first grade trip to a northern settlement in Canada called Fort Chipewan. My parents equipped me with a small camera and a roll of film and couldn't wait to see what I'd come back with. I am sure I surprised them when I took an entire roll of film of just the clouds out of the plane window, some of which were the same clouds. I … [Read more...]

I would be lying if I said that I had many memories of my Father who passed away when I was seven. But I do have his Canon 35mm slr, his Cine camera and the old red leather albums that he that he stored in the “good unit” in the living room, third door along. I have always been labelled the “arty” one of the family but the only common thread through the generations that my … [Read more...]

Photography has been an important thing in my life since I was around ten, after my mother gave me an old Kodak 110 film cartridge point and shoot. Whenever I could convince my parents to buy or allow me to use my own money to get a film roll I would rush to jam the cartridge into the camera and become the next Ansel Adams. Now fast forward by about 500 very bad pictures. My … [Read more...]

It was the 1980’s when I decided I wanted to be a photojournalist. I was 13 years old. The civil war in El Salvador was making headlines and I remember telling my parents that I needed to be there, to record what was happening, to show the world. They’re reaction, naturally was, “But you could get killed!” “Yeah, that’s a possibility” I remember answering back. Growing up … [Read more...]