Why

This isn’t me.  These are pictures that nearly didn’t happen.  In 2011, just as everything was looking good, life decided to punch us HARD in our guts.  My dad had a stroke.  It took his zest of life, his wellbeing and his memory.  He was given 6% chance of surviving, so the fact he gets to spend time with my son is a miracle.

At the time of his stroke, we were told many things.  We saw many things which I would never wish on my enemies.  We were even told to plan for his passing.  It was when he saw his Granddaughter (my niece) that he started to find a reason to live.  We realised that he needed motivation.  He needed pictures of his loved ones.  We placed 1 picture of my niece with her hands held up to the sky and would tell my father to copy that pose.  It was a form of exercise – but he didn’t know it.

I have pictures of his recovery… but I have few from before this point.  Because photography, until that moment, wasn’t important to me, to us.  We thought we had memories… but memories lose focus.  A picture will always remain the same.  It will always be in focus.  It will always trigger an emotion, a moment, a reaction.

Knowing how important it is to record memories of your loved ones means I work extra hard to getting to know my clients.  I want to know what is important to them.  I want them to feel comfortable in opening up to me.  I want to photograph the most important people at my client’s most important day.  The memories we make in our minds, they will fade, but photographs will keep them in focus.