My creative process always begins in stillness, with a moment imagined clearly in my mind—the story, the emotion, the quiet connection that gives it meaning. Before anything takes shape, I spend time sitting with that moment, trying to understand what truly matters within it and why it deserves to be preserved. I think about the bond being shared, the unspoken trust, and the feeling that exists beneath the surface.

Creating, for me, is an act of listening as much as it is of making. Each piece becomes a conversation between memory and craft—guided by light, texture, and composition, but grounded in respect for the subject and the life behind it. I work slowly and intentionally, allowing the image to unfold in a way that feels honest rather than forced.

When a piece feels authentic and alive, it’s because the story was held gently from the beginning. My hope is that the work carries a sense of warmth and presence—that it feels familiar, meaningful, and quietly enduring, like something remembered rather than something created.