Why I care so much
I've always loved the small details - the markers of our lives recording what we did. I have trouble letting go of tickets to special events or places, I've scrapbooked receipts from restaurants, and I get sentimental over little notes written by my husband. Documentary photography is a natural extension of this for me - a way to hold on to as many fleeting moments as possible (whilst also minimising the clutter...!).
This desire to record the details is partly driven by a terrible memory. Even the most important days just don't stick in my head very well, and I hate that. I've found that photos bring back those memories in a way that nothing else does. I'm so grateful for the moments in my family's life I can revisit because I took the photos.
More than this, though, I've been shaped by the last few years. One of my kids had a terribly difficult time in school, struggling to attend and becoming very unwell. It's no exaggeration to say that it was the hardest thing I, my kid and our family has ever worked through. In the midst of the intense stress and worry, I learned how to sink into each moment of joy as it came along. I made the most of every smile, every beautiful piece of light, every song which lit us up. And as I learned to do this, I realised that I didn't need to wait for joy and for beauty. Even in our hardest season it was right there, just waiting for me to notice it.
Every photo I make for other families carries this way of seeing. I know that this beauty is there to be found, and I get so excited to show families that it's there. I am deeply passionate about providing you with images which show the real, honest beauty of your lives in tangible pieces you can hold onto and revisit.
