Statement

I was trained as a painter, not as a photographer. During the pandemic, when everything was shut down, I began taking early morning walks around my neighborhood to ease my cabin fever. I used my phone to photograph anything that crossed my path and caught my eye—a fallen leaf, an insect, or a bird on a lamppost. Gradually, I realized that the busy routines of my pre-Covid life had dulled my ability to truly look, to appreciate the nature all around me, and to rediscover a sense of belonging within it.

Now that we are long out of lockdown, I regularly hike a trail near my home, photographing plants and wildlife. This quiet routine continues to draw me into the natural world, inviting me to slow down and enter further into it.

The trail is endlessly beautiful and constantly transformed by the seasons. In summer, it’s harsh, dry, and sun-bleached. By fall, the air cools, and the colors deepen. I try to capture not just what I see in this, but what I feel upon slowing down into it, hoping something of that feeling is evidenced in the finished print.

Over time, this weekly ritual has begun to spill into my everyday life. I now carry my camera into my yard, through my neighborhood, and on occasional outings, following the same instinct to look closely, remain curious, and be present.