It all began with a camera… and a whole lot of film.
I’ve never cared much for the high-maintenance version of photography—the lights, the backdrops, the forced smiles.
I’ve always preferred the come-as-you-are kind of moments.
For my own senior portraits, I asked my mom to take me to the place I loved most: a waterfall on the property where I spent countless hours growing up. I felt at home there. It was natural. I don’t think I even smiled—and I loved that.
Fast forward a few kids into life, and I found myself frustrated with photographers trying so hard to get my children to smile and look at the camera. One of my kids was notorious for making faces. He wasn’t especially happy. He was grumpy, a little wild… and completely himself.
And I kept thinking: let’s capture that.
One day, I decided to do it myself. The photo I loved most wasn’t the one where everyone smiled—it was the one where everyone was just being themselves. Crazy faces and all.
Since 2007, I haven’t put the camera down. Sure, I’ve upgraded gear a few times, but the mission has stayed the same:
To capture the real. The honest. The in-between moments that tell your story best.
You + yours—plus all of those beautifully imperfect, in-between moments.
My STORY.
Me + Mine.
Single mom of six boys—now mostly grown, with just two still at home. Doodle mom. Proud grand kitty parent. I love coffee, the mountains, shoes, boba tea, working out, the Enneagram, and deep conversations that linger long after they’re over.
I currently live in Texas, but my soul resides in the Rocky Mountains—and one day, maybe I’ll call them home.
Photography, for me, is about more than pictures. It’s about creating a space where everyone feels safe, where your story deserves to be heard, and where the moments that make you you can unfold naturally.
I’m embracing my own changes too—I’ve added a few tattoos, some wrinkles, a little gray hair, and I’ve decided to fully embrace my natural brunette. Life is better when it’s real, and that’s the authenticity I strive to capture for every session.
Don’t look too closely, though. Like the cobbler whose kids didn’t have shoes, the photographer doesn’t have updated pictures of her own family…
My camera has carried me farther than I ever imagined—across state lines, into lives and stories that demand to be noticed. I’ve had the honor of working with non-profits fighting to end sex trafficking and helping to build medical centers in Haiti.
Through it all, photography has become more than images. It has become a doorway—to new places, to deeper purpose, and to the understanding that every story deserves to be told.
