What happens
between.
between.
My work begins when people turn toward each other.
Not to direct the moment,
but to hold space for what happens in between.
Whether at a wedding, in public, or in private, it isn’t about documenting events.
It’s about presence.
A gathering isn’t a reportage.
It’s a tapestry of nerves, joy, and fleeting moments.
I move through it with respect, not with a blueprint.
This takes patience, not invisibility.
Sometimes, I miss the perfect shot for the right one.
Trust can’t be staged.
It grows when I listen more than I direct,
when I wait for the glance instead of asking for the smile.
The strongest photographs aren’t made when the camera is forgotten.
They happen when the moment becomes stronger than the awareness of being seen.
My role isn’t to disappear.
It’s to be present —
so your story stays at the center.
This is the record that remains.