A Deeper Look at My Life

I grew up in Texas in a rural part of the central hill country that has since boomed but maintains a handful of hideaways and pockets of peace where wildflowers still bloom in abundance every spring and deer bed down in the juniper.

From an early age, I was outside as much as possible. My brothers and I had a rare sort of 21st century childhood that was more reminiscent of what it was like for generations past. We ran through the woods, building forts and practicing survival skills across thousands of acres with only a bell tower in the front yard that mother would ring when it was time to come home. As we grew, we watched our territory shrink as new developments broke ground and neighbors crowded in and we were confined to our own much smaller plot of land. Still, it was enough that by the time I entered high school, I'd finally convinced my folks that I was ready to take on the responsibility of horse ownership. My parents were not horse people and wanted nothing to do with them, but I worked hard to get horses and then harder still to keep them and become the horsewoman I had always dreamt of being. Fast forward, I bought, trained, and sold many horses, but one stuck around- my "heart horse," Loki, who, over a decade later, I still consider the greatest teacher, teammate, and companion I have known. I was heavily involved in the horse world, even going on to receive my B.S. in Animal Science with a concentration in equine production from Texas Tech University in 2020.

In the past few years, however, I've let go of the reins quite a bit to focus on my true calling in life- photography. From my earliest memories, well before I even got into horses, my dream was to be a nature photographer. Elementary and middle school career projects were always something along the lines of being a Nat Geo photojournalist. I always had a camera of some kind to photograph anything and everything, even shooting on 35mm film from the time I was 12- another rarity for a 21st century childhood. I never put down the camera, although that dream was put aside as my primary focus became horses in high school and most of college. As a teen and young adult, having a career in the equine industry seemed far more attainable than being a traveling photographer. But halfway through my degree, I realized that as much as I love horses, it still does not compare to the fire that has always been in my belly for photography. So I quit bringing in new horses, decided it would just be me and Loki from then on, and started my photography business. I started shooting portraits specializing in equine and western lifestyle photography but expanded into all kinds of portraiture including weddings. Out of college, Loki went back to stay at my folks' place and I hit the road living out of my truck and shooting full time.

While my portrait business is still bringing in work, my focus has shifted back toward my original childhood dream of being a nature photographer. Today what that translates to is me spending as much time as I possibly can in wilderness, observing nature, even working part time seasonally as a wildlife guide in national parks, and shooting images that capture the beauty of the natural world and people's place in it. I consider myself a conservation photographer and a storyteller that places no hierarchy of one subject or story over another. If I'm graced with a shot of an elusive creature, I am thrilled, but if only a common songbird is in front of my camera, I consider it a gift. If I have the opportunity to join a mountain expedition, I am stoked, but if the day brings only a simple meeting of a soon-to-be graduate needing senior photos, I consider that story equally deserving of timeless illustration. While I am grateful for every opportunity to take photos, my goal goes beyond photography. My goal is to use photography as an instrument to unite, inspire, and spread joy. My goal is to show people the beauty that I see in everything, and encourage them to see it, too.

My Philosophy:

Out in the Wide Open and Hidden in the Details

In my mind’s eye, I witness the birth of new galaxies as wildflowers bloom and pollinators work with urgency yet never rushed. I sense whole worlds exploding as I walk through the woods, stepping as slow and careful as I can yet unable to avoid trampling something, anything, everything. I watch the entire earth spin as snow melts into streams - flow into rivers - run to sea -evaporate into clouds - fall as rain - quench my thirst. I feel the stretching, pulling, slow, firm, tireless tug of the whole universe expanding as I sit still like a butterfly resting on a bed of moss. The backlit glow of a ground squirrel on a rock against the even bigger rocks that build up into mountains in the background reminds me that I too am quite small, and agree that the sun sure feels nice when it finally comes out from behind the clouds on a cool morning. Squatting down to pat the tops of mushrooms tucked away in crevices of roots, rocks, and ground cover, I notice each makes a different sound like I imagine the symphony of stars are unique in their songs they sing as they hang in the sky. Have you ever noticed how the soft round back of a pika is antithetical of the hard lines of the talus slopes they inhabit, and yet, their shrill chirps reflect the rocks' rough edges? Also, did you know that if you are quiet and still enough, the chipmunks will come out and play in your midst and I swear you can even hear the trees’ low rumble of laughter as they watch you watching them.

Don’t you know that the biggest sights to behold of worlds unknown out there beyond our own are just as invisible as the tiniest of microscopic ecosystems that exist in the area of a single foot print? So to me, to see the littlest living things making their way is just as impressive as the grandeur of a sweeping landscape and magnificent beasts. Remember, it takes all kinds.

Everything my eyes can see without aid, those are my favorite sights, that is what I will shoot. I sense no hierarchy in subject matter, I see the beauty in it all and I practice filling my portfolio with all that is before me, not chasing what isn't there. I believe that where I am is where I am supposed to be and what I see is precisely what was meant for me in each moment. Rarely will I go out looking for a specific subject, though I am not opposed to seeking, I much prefer to practice simply seeing. For seeking is a task, while seeing is a skill.