Before I went to bed the other night, I started thinking of a particular irony in my life. My parents did such an amazing job documenting their children’s lives. Like any other family, we used to have massive amounts of albums and videos of our childhood–from birth and five years onward. I mean, we had so many albums that if we had anymore, the Encyclopedia book series with it’s own shelf row would have gotten the boot (thank goodness for Wikipedia).
Unfortunately, around when I was five-years-old, our house burnt down entirely and we lost everything. Luckily, my family escaped alive and unscathed. We all moved on with grateful hearts but one thing that has always pained me is that the childhood photos + videos were lost forever. I’d say we still have a good amount but I do miss the most half.
One of the reasons why I decided to become a photographer is because I love capturing and preserving every and any moment possible. Anyone that knows me understands that I have the shortest memory bank. But the second I look at a photo or snapshot in time, I can remember everything from that moment–the smell, the taste, the noises, the emotions, everything. The fire event was a tragic incident in my family’s lives, we’ll never forget it. But I like to think that there is a silver lining to every cloud. In my own little world, I believe the silver lining is the happiness I discovered in documenting memories for myself and others. The very same fire that stole my memories fueled my passion for photography. And with every click of the camera, I find peace and comfort knowing that I’ve preserved a moment in time. When I look back, I want to remember how I lived my life exactly the way I lived it. And I really hope I can offer the same comfort and relief for others.