I've rewritten this a dozen times.

Every version felt like I was trying to convince you that I'm the photographer you should hire. The truth is... I don't think that's what matters. What matters is why I pick up a camera in the first place.

When I became a mother, time stopped making sense.

The days felt impossibly long, but somehow my babies still grew overnight. One day they needed to be carried, and the next they were running ahead of me. One day they asked me to read the same book five times in a row, and one day they stopped asking.

I realized I wasn't afraid of forgetting birthdays or vacations. I was afraid of forgetting Tuesday. The cereal on the floor. The backyard hose. The way tiny hands reached for mine without thinking. The look my husband gives our kids when they aren't paying attention. The laughter that only lasts a few seconds before everyone moves on.

Those moments disappear quietly.

No one thinks to photograph them because they don't feel important while they're happening.

Until they are.

Photography became my way of saying, "Wait. This matters." Not because your life has to be extraordinary to deserve remembering, but because it already is. I don't believe the best photographs come from perfect posing or carefully planned moments. I think they come from feeling safe enough to be yourself. From letting your kids get dirty. From dancing in the kitchen. From crying during your vows because you forgot anyone else was watching. From laughing so hard your nose wrinkles. From living instead of performing.

I don't want you to leave a session thinking, Those are beautiful photos.

I want you to leave thinking, That feels like us.

Because years from now, when the house is quieter and the people you love have changed, I hope you won't just remember what life looked like.

I hope you'll remember what it felt like.

What Inspires Me

I used to think everyone else had the beautiful life.

You know the one. The Pinterest version where eating a strawberry somehow looks cute, the house is always clean, and even folding laundry feels romantic.

Meanwhile, I was sitting in my rental with ugly carpet, dog hair all over my clothes, toys covering the floor, wondering why my life never looked like that.

It took me a while to realize that my life was beautiful too. I just wasn't looking at it the same way I looked at everyone else's.

The beauty was already there, in the messy mornings, the cold coffee, the smile lines, the kids running barefoot through the backyard, and all the little things that never seem important until they're gone.

That's what inspires me. I don't want to turn your life into something it isn't. I want to show you how beautiful it already is, ugly carpet, dog hair, chaos and all.

Behind the Camera

You'll probably find me romanticizing something completely ordinary.

I'm a mother of three, which means most days are loud, messy, slightly chaotic, and somehow over before I can fully take them in.

When I'm not photographing people, I'm usually chasing my kids through the yard, planning our next trip, exploring Ross, collecting old cameras, or shooting another roll of film that I'll impatiently wait weeks to see.

I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, so give me mountains, fog, tall trees, or a rocky beach and I'll immediately feel at home. Texas is home now, but I think a little part of me will always belong somewhere under the evergreens.

I laugh loudly, ask a lot of questions, and will absolutely interrupt myself because the light suddenly got really good.

Mostly, I just genuinely love hearing people's stories, the big ones, the strange ones, and especially the tiny details you don't think anyone else would care about.

My Philosophy

This was never supposed to feel like a photoshoot.

I don't want you spending the whole time wondering where to put your hands, whether your kids are behaving, or if you're doing any of it “right.”

I want you to feel comfortable enough to forget about the camera. To play with your kids, pull your person closer, laugh too loudly, get your clothes a little dirty, and show up exactly as you are.

Every session begins with your story. I want to know what your days actually look like, what matters to you, what makes your relationship yours, and which parts of this season you already know you're going to miss.

From there, I create space for real moments to happen and pay close attention when they do.

I don't just want to give you beautiful photographs. I want to give you something that feels so much like you that, years from now, you can almost step back inside it.

01 / 03

The Camera was never the point. the story was.