Beneath my bed was a forgotten Canon Rebel XS.  

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It was gifted by my grandma years before my photographic interests bloomed. It stayed untouched for a decade, until I turned 19; until I realized the art of capturing memories mattered more than the perfection of the moment. 

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Cradling valleys on Vancouver Island nursed me until I was old enough to name the desolate peaks and coastlines I call home. They raised me to be curious and to force life into perspective by looking beyond the shore or cliff edge. Today, I live comfortably isolated on the northern tip of the island, where land is sunken beneath dense fog and forests are alive with an array of dampened lichen. Everywhere here feels like nowhere you’ve been before, which is why I consider every nook and cranny of this coastal giant home, rather than one singular community.  

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After graduating secondary school, I entrusted my education to world experiences rather than enclosed classrooms. I opted to sample the nomadic lifestyle before settling back home; allowing my heart to guide, otherwise my mind would never have settled. I continue to trust the broken road to lead me to knowledge, which makes my learning journey constantly refreshing.