A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far, Far Away The year was 1997 and an innocent eight-year-old boy curiously watched a fairytale-esque text appear on the screen: “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.” Suddenly an exultant trumpet blast shattered the frame and an iconic yellow…

Instagram is a seductive platform. When I open the app and see other photographers posting amazing shots and receiving a deluge of likes, I’m instantly tempted to launch my own works into the digital space. The promise of my own flood of affirmation is too good for me to pass…

I don’t want to be the best. In anything. The pinnacle is a lonely, uninspiring place. It’s the home of entropy and the grave of ambition. But, I want to consistently push myself to be my best. Often I fall back on the foundation constructed from the hard work of…

My life in Los Angeles reverberates with activity. The sound of invitations and opportunities is a constant thrum in my ear. Someone is always throwing a party, gathering a game night, or busying bars. …

“Only through time time is conquered.” — T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets. What is time? It delineates the hours, days, and years of our lives. We depend on it to distinguish seasons and mark holidays. It tells me if today is my birthday or just a regular old day. We can…

When you crack your eyes open to the morning light, what thought immediately bubbles up into your mind? If you’re anything like me, it’s a word that begins with f and ends with k. It’s not that I don’t like morning or being awake. I’m actually rather fond of it…

Shaking Loose Shame The suitcase trailing behind me clatters over the cobblestone streets of Oslo. Like a cowbell announcing my presence, my loud luggage summons the sideways glances of passersby. In past years, the intrusive cacophony of my bag would have embarrassed me and cast me into the discomfort of…

Pain emanates from secrets locked in the heart. Like a spider-crack in a windshield, it shoots tendrils and weaves a web across the fracturing glass. Unhalted, the fissures will shatter the surface. Our intimate sufferings often stem from tiny projectiles: misguided expectations. A pebble launched at the windshield may yield…

This post picks up where the previous, “First Light”, left off. Through a shimmering London sunset, I felt my tinge of delight at taking pictures. Despite the potent pleasure, it would be three more years before I willingly took up the title “photographer”. …