In truth, the art of taking photos was not a career I had imagined for myself. I have dreamt many dreams of different futures over the years, some seemingly more realistic than others. When I was in my early teens, my heart set on tending to animals. A vet. However, that idea saw a quick death when I was asked if I minded the sight of blood. As it turns out, it makes me quite queasy.  

Dreams have come and gone and photography was never one of them. I had taken photos for years, of friends, of family and it’s no wonder really that somehow I ended up here but the idea of doing something you love for work felt absurd to me. I only knew work, and a career, to be stationed in an office and to be something that you went to bed at night resenting. Why should I pick a love only to resent it? And so I told people this. I would not be a photographer, it would always be something at the side of my life. That way my love for it could be preserved. Maybe I should have known when I first discovered the dark room at school that photography was not willing to stay second best. 

What a freedom it was in there. It was like the whole world opened up, which is funny considering it is a space so very closed off to the outside world, where not even light is allowed. The overwhelming feeling of the expansiveness of the dark, and how the most beautiful and delicate art could be created in there. Nights and lunch times would I spent holed up in there, away from everyone. Choosing to stay at school for hours after the day had ended. It was an enthusiasm I had never had before for any learning. School and everything associated had always felt a punishment, day in and day out. And here I was, in my final two years, actively deciding not to go home and to instead stay in the dark, behind two sets of doors. No phone. No people. Just myself, the chemicals and the prospects of what we could create together.

It was psychology that I originally pursued. I thought it the most viable career path as opposed to sociology or photography. Sometimes I feel like I made the wrong choice, not because I wish I had chosen photography, but because I wish I had instead chosen sociology, a subject I connected with quite profoundly. I don’t regret any of it though and I found myself taken with the idea of psychiatry which I was sure I would pursue after my Masters’s degree. Except that was not the plan of life. 

Myalgic Encephalomyelitis is what we have to thank for my position now. Becoming a psychologist, let alone a psychiatrist, closed itself to me. I mourned that for a long time while still holding on to the idea of research, however after rejection after rejection I decided I could no longer spend days pouring my limited supply of energy into being one of thousands of job applicants. Perhaps photography instead, my mum said to me.

It has been a long journey. Longer than many, and shorter than some I am sure. Understanding that photography could be used to turn everyday moments into the most eloquent diary, perfectly writing every single second into the most permanent print was expansive for me. Initially, I chose to find myself in the world of fashion, of which I definitely am not normally a part of. Something was missing. It took a long time to realise that authenticity is what I craved in my images, and more importantly, love. This realisation took me down the most beautiful path, slowly but surely leading me to find exactly what about photography calls most to my heart.

And so this is me and my story. And of course, I can’t forget to mention the most important parts of my life that exist in the now. I have my own love story that writes itself every day; from the moment I open my eyes in the morning to the seconds when I lie in bed at night falling asleep. Not a day goes by when I do not feel adoration for my partner. He is my world and my everything.  Together we keep Guinea Pigs, who are my other loves. I have a great fondness for all animals and my little pigs take up a huge space in my heart. Our beautiful Raisin passed the rainbow bridge last year, and still with us are our two youngsters Milk and Beadie, and Miss Puffle our geriatric and most perfect girl. I keep an allotment and have a profound affection for growing things even if they, in reality, do not grow very much at all. I talk to the insects, sing with the birds and on occasion have been known to swear at slugs. I feel as at home with the earth between my fingers as I do a camera in my hands. Lastly, I am capable with a pair of knitting needles, competitive with a reading goal and can watch Parks and Recs, Pride and Prejudice and How to Train Your Dragon over and over without tiring of them. 

My love, if you have made it this far, as I appreciate this isn’t the shortest of about sections, perhaps you already know you will be well cared for. Photos are sacred to me, but so are the real moments in between when the shutter fires. Whether it is your wedding we save the story of, or your pregnancy, or just this pocket in time you wish to remember of and for yourself, I am here for you, as a photographer and as a person who cares deeply about you. I hope we can talk some more, and perhaps this time, it will be you sharing your story with me. I can’t wait.