My dad handed me his camera when I was twelve at a family wedding. That’s where the story begins.

I ran a studio for years, and then I quit. Life got heavy and busy, and I walked away from the one thing that made me feel most like myself. I told myself I’d come back to it “one day,” even though I didn’t know if I actually would.

Then we went to Iceland.

I went to the little black church, a spot I’d seen online and wanted a photo of. I thought it was just that: a photo. But after thirteen years, I picked up my camera, took one shot, and it hit me harder than I expected.

I missed this.
I missed me.
I missed seeing things instead of rushing past them.

That moment didn’t change everything, but it woke something up. It reminded me that the part of me who sees stories in small, quiet things had never actually disappeared. I’d just stopped paying attention.

I photograph what feels real, things that change, things that get missed, things with history and wear and truth. Old barns, fences, fields, fog, light shifts. The everyday stuff that just goes unnoticed.

Still Light grew out of that. It’s for people who want to slow down, appreciate what’s already in front of them, and maybe find their own “black church moment” that one unexpected thing that just feels good.

I’m not here as an expert. I’m just someone on the journey too, and I’m inviting you to walk with me.