Behind the Frame
I’m drawn to the quiet choreography of city life—unscripted, layered, and raw. My photography begins with curiosity: about people, about space, and about the narratives that flicker at the edges of everyday life. I photograph what’s easy to miss—the tension in an alley’s geometry, the texture of a fading mural, the rhythm of a street corner caught between motion and stillness.
Most of my work lives in the street—among graffiti, signage, architecture, and surfaces worn by time and weather. But lately, the pull toward what's real has taken on new urgency. I find myself leaning further into the act of witnessing, chasing not just stillness, but story. Expanding into photojournalism feels like a natural progression. I’ve always followed the unfiltered and the fleeting; now I want to follow it further—to the places where truth lives without polish.
What I’m building is less about perfection and more about presence. Black and white or color, fine art or fieldwork—everything begins with a moment that asks to be seen. My work lives in that space between documentation and interpretation. Between what was, what remains, and what disappears.
Artist Statement
My work lives in the space between stillness and motion—between what’s crumbling and what refuses to go unnoticed. I move between black and white and color depending on what the moment asks for. One gives me silence and shadow; the other gives me heat, urgency, and presence. Both are ways of listening.
I photograph what cities leave behind and what they try to hide. A tagged wall behind a corner store. A neon sign buzzing just before dawn. An alley where the light hits like memory. I'm drawn to these liminal places—the parts of the city that speak quietly but hold everything.
Street photography has always been my starting point, but I’m finding myself pulled toward something deeper. Toward stories, not just moments. Toward photojournalism as a natural continuation of the way I already work: instinctive, observational, and unfiltered. It’s less about perfection and more about paying attention.
My black-and-white photography focuses on the interplay of light and shadow—how architecture bends time, how alleyways can feel like thresholds, how movement leaves an echo. Color, on the other hand, allows me to explore vibrancy in stillness: the richness of a painted brick wall, the saturation of a summer night, the electric loneliness of empty streets.
I rarely stage or prepare for a photo. Instead, I let the world present itself, and I respond. My lens is a tool for listening, and my compositions reflect an ongoing conversation with place. There’s beauty in what's overlooked. There’s truth in what's fading. I want each image to feel like a pause—a chance to really see.