I photograph within the medium of analog film. It’s tactile. Real. Imperfect. Beautiful.

My practice moves between self-portraiture and the intimate documentation of other women — inside domestic spaces, in the in-between hours, amidst the shedding of old identities, waiting for something that hasn't yet been named.

I came (back) to photography through my body. Yes, as a subject, but more so as a site of evidence — proof of existence, of voice, of having moved through something. Photographing myself became an act of witnessing my own transformation as it unfolded, before language arrived. The love affair with myself changed as 1. I moved to film and 2. I suddenly lost my beautiful light-box of a studio. The resulting series, Proof, is an ongoing effort to anchor my feet back into this earth — bathroom mirrors, solo car rides.

While many mundane, they are still the artifacts of existence. Proof that I am trying.

Why film? There is no review, no correction, no immediate evidence that anything happened at all. What remains is what was actually there — the light, the body, the moment the shutter opened. The tactile, the imperfect, the irreversible. Film is omnificent in all its wisdom.

My work with other women follows the same logic, with one deeply powerful difference— the act of co-creating. Holding space. Sharing energy. Releasing expectations. I am less interested in direction than in a natural unfolding dictated by light and play.

My work has been published in Memory Cult and received a first-place award in a juried exhibition. I am based in Maryland, and often travel to Washington, DC, and New York City.

As I get older, I am less interested in volume than in resonance. Limited edition prints from Proof and select collaborative bodies of work are available through private editions.