PHOTOGRAPHY

Long before smartphones made snapshots effortless, I was hauling around my Minolta SLR — framing the world through a lens, then bringing those images to life in a rented darkroom, hour by hour, print by print.

In 2017, something shifted. I began to reimagine my connection to dance — and with it, the way I captured movement, gesture, light. That’s when image-making became more than documentation. It became a vital thread in my creative practice — a way to hold onto the ephemeral and give form to the felt.

Have you ever paused to wonder how a moment becomes an image?

What happens when you let light do the drawing?

Analogue
Photograms
2022-present

A photogram is a camera-less photograph — an image born not from a lens, but from light, objects, and time. The process dates back to the early 20th century, but in a world increasingly shaped by AI, I find myself reaching back — into the red-lit hush of the darkroom, where image-making feels elemental and alive.

These analogue works are made by placing natural objects directly onto light-sensitive paper. What emerges is always a surprise — each piece shaped by the particularity of the moment: the texture of a leaf, the angle of a stem, the exposure’s duration. Unrepeatable. Singular.

Is self-portraiture a record, or a reinvention?

Self portraiture
Digital photographs
2022-present

While I own a digital SLR, most of my images are captured on my iPhone. There’s something irresistible about its immediacy — the ability to respond, quickly and quietly, to a fleeting moment. With minimal setup, I can move through public outdoor spaces without drawing attention, remaining a witness, not a spectacle.

Though I’m drawn to many subjects — light, texture, shadow, place — I often return to the self. It’s a habit carried over from my years as a solo dance artist. In this ongoing thread of self-portraiture, I explore presence, absence, gesture, and the body’s quiet conversation with landscape.