It started with a Canon Digital Rebel in 2003, an 85mm prime I couldn’t really afford, and a handful of friends who were kind enough to let me practice on them. Dani, shooting in her backyard as the light faded. Ann, lit by a tungsten lamp that ran hot enough to be a minor fire hazard. Rachel, indulging a brief and enthusiastic phase of recreating 1950s pin-up posters with a couple of AlienBees strobes I’d just bought.
None of it was subtle. Looking back at those early frames, I can see every mistake — backgrounds I should have avoided, apertures I should have opened wider, poses that leaned too hard on a prop instead of a person. But somewhere in there the habit took hold: go outside, find the light, ask someone patient enough to stand still for a while.
Twenty years on, the gear is quieter and the style has changed more than I expected — less flash, more available light, more interest in a moment than a pose. What hasn’t changed is the part that matters: someone willing to be photographed, and me trying to get out of the way enough to actually see them.