I was as honest with my passions then

as I am now.

My eyes linger over these forgotten photographs and I am brimming with varied emotions that range from intrigue, to sorrow to awe. Part of me is curious to recall my thoughts during this project. I photographed these images back in 2015, under the instruction of Suda House. Affectionately, I found her… cooky. She introduced me to the dark room, taught me the best F stops and Apertures, and gave me my first taste of applied art theory. I don’t remember what the prompt was exactly but I distinctly remember the work evolving into something of its own.

It’s relieving to see that my interests haven’t changed much; I’m still passionate about social awareness, history, and relationships. This same content is echoed throught the majority of my work. But in looking back, it is clearer to me that my visual language is native to documentary; I strive to capture the essence of human experiences.

I was general then in my looking, in my ‘seeing’ of the world, not really pointing to one thing or another, which is not always a bad thing. Some of these images are a bit vague and others are a bit ‘on-the-nose’ with obvious subject matter. Still, these photos dance to the rhythmic patter of a heavy heart. I am pained by indifference; the frequent shrug that I witness in relationships be it romantic, familial, societal. I can see quite clearly what I intended these photographs to do; strike emotion in the viewer. Joy, regret, love, sorrow… anything.

I just want people to give a fuck.

However, I often question if this ‘intention’ is motivated from my desire to relate to others in the world or a deep frustration knowing that my efforts are only a drop in an ocean. Is the subtle nudge in these photos actually the result of a muffled shrill that I am silencing internally? I can’t help but notice a reccuring theme in my work: I am drawn to histories of the unacknowledged. The stories of the overlooked. Forgotten legacies that lie beneath the surface of politics, power struggles, and self-serving narratives. Just one of these topics alone is enough to keep me up all night. Nevertheless, I will take confidence in the motivation I’ve found from uncovering these images. I was as honest with my passions then as I am now.

What are you passionate about? How have your passions have changed or remained the same? Leave a comment if you found these photos impactful.

All the best,



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