Projects
Cayman Islands 2020-ongoing
Through shared silence, I find my family in the weight of stillness. Tenderness and tension sit side by side like a breath caught and kept. In the Cayman Islands, home is more than who is there, like salt in the air. An unseen presence exists in subtle fragments. An empty chair in a bright yellow room still holds the essence of my grandma. Or my grandpa, soaking up the morning sun, like seaweed warmed by the tide.
From Where I Stand portrays the rhythm of our lives, life in the bush, and the freedom of the ocean. Two forces form the heartbeat that keeps my family functioning. Our land holds silence like a blanket, an enclosed comfort. Running barefoot on the gravel while shadows gather around us. When the sea washes the noises away, offering an escape. Feet sunk deep into the sand, as the sound of chatter grows. My sister eating a mango soaked in the ocean water, connecting land and sea.
Cayman Islands 2025-ongoing
My grandparents’ home, where I grew up until the age of 4, holds the spaces that shaped my earliest memories. Not having my grandmother anymore, I wish I had started this series sooner, but it remains just as meaningful as I continue it with my grandfather still here. Through photographing these rooms, objects, and quiet moments, I preserve what lingers and what has already begun to fade. Each image reflects the warmth, absence, and passage of time within the house. Details that carry memory with light on familiar surfaces, worn textures, and the stillness of lived in spaces. This is a way of holding onto what cannot last, documenting people, places, and things that exist as traces of my past.
Savannah, Ga Year of Realization-2025
Disappearance is the most important aspect of the series, showing how we exist as a trace and not a subject. Instead of being in front of the camera, I captured my presence as it appeared on glass, concrete, water. Surfaces that held me for a short moment before my presence shifted away. I see myself in different versions… partial, sometimes grounded, sometimes dissolving. Through the camera, identity is not fixed; it is in and out of visibility. My shadows or reflections are absorbed, half-erased, or covered by other shapes. Working in black and white removes distractions, focusing on tone, texture, and presence, highlighting timelessness and abstraction. Emphasizing the balance between being and fading. I want to challenge what we define as a self-portrait, seen only as light touching a surface.
Savannah, Ga Year of Realization-2023
I am always amazed by how you can grow so close to people at one point, and then they’re gone the next. People come and go in the blink of an eye, moving in and out of your life in ways you never fully expect or understand, yet the memories they leave behind remain. There’s something strange about how quickly presence can turn into absence, how someone who once felt constant can suddenly just be gone. You don’t always notice when it’s happening; there isn’t always a clear ending or a moment that marks the shift. Sometimes people slowly drift, conversations become less frequent, and the closeness you once shared becomes quieter, more distant. Other times, it happens all at once, without warning. It makes you realize how fragile a connection can be, and how easily something meaningful can become something you can only look back on.