A hidden treasure
People often ask me where my love for photography began, and my answer always takes me back to one afternoon when I was twelve years old. It wasn't a grand moment or something I had planned. Like most curious kids, I was rummaging through the storage bench by our front door, not looking for anything in particular, when I stumbled across an old camera tucked away inside. It was a Canon EOS Rebel film camera, and although I had no idea at the time, that little discovery would quietly change the direction of my life.
I remember picking it up, turning it over in my hands and wondering where it had come from. It looked different from anything I had ever seen before, so I walked over to my mom and asked her about it. She smiled as she told me that it had once been her camera and shared stories about taking photographs with it years earlier. As she talked, I couldn't help but imagine all of the memories that little camera had already captured before it somehow found its way into our front hall bench.
When she finished telling me its story, she looked at me, handed the camera back and simply said, "You can have it if you'd like." It seemed like such a small moment at the time, just a mother passing along something she no longer used to her curious twelve-year-old daughter. Neither of us could have known that the old camera she had tucked away years before would become the beginning of a lifelong passion, a career and a business that would one day allow me to tell other people's stories through my lens.
FINDING A MENTOR
For the next two years, that little film camera rarely left my side. It went everywhere with me, and before long I found myself seeing the world differently. Flowers in the garden, insects crawling through the grass, family gatherings and even the ordinary moments of everyday life became opportunities to practise. I wasn't photographing anything extraordinary, I was simply learning to notice the beauty that had always been there. Every roll of film taught me something new. Sometimes I would get my photos developed and feel so proud of what I had captured, and other times I would wonder what I had done wrong. But every mistake made me curious enough to try again, and little by little, without even realizing it, I was building the foundation that would shape me as a photographer.
When I was about fourteen or fifteen years old, another unexpected opportunity found me. A very special woman in my life had quietly watched my love for photography grow for a while.. She saw something in my photographs that I wasn't yet able to see in myself, and instead of simply encouraging me from the sidelines, she chose to invest in me. She became my mentor, generously sharing her knowledge, answering my endless questions and encouraging me to keep creating. Then one day, she placed one of her own older Canon digital cameras into my hands.
I still remember that moment so clearly. Holding that camera was exciting, but it was also a little intimidating. For two years I had grown comfortable with film photography, and now it felt as though I was stepping into an entirely new world. Everything I thought I knew suddenly changed.
The familiar rolls of film disappeared and were replaced by memory cards. Instead of waiting days to see whether I had captured the shot I was hoping for, I could instantly review my photographs on the back of my camera. It felt almost magical.
Of course, with that excitement came a whole new learning curve. Suddenly I wasn't just learning how to use a camera anymore, I was learning about computers, editing software, digital files and an entirely different workflow that came with digital photography. There were moments when it felt overwhelming, but more than anything, I was fascinated. Every afternoon after school and every free weekend became another chance to experiment, make mistakes and discover something new. Before long, I was bringing my camera everywhere I went, convincing my friends to let me photograph them and filling memory cards with thousands of images as I learned what worked and what didn't.
Looking back now, I realize that receiving that camera wasn't just about upgrading from film to digital. It was another reminder of how much one person's belief in you can change the course of your life. My mentor didn't just lend me a camera, she gave me the confidence to believe that maybe this passion was worth pursuing. Even today, every time I pick up my camera, I'm reminded that none of us become who we are on our own. Sometimes all it takes is one person who believes in you before you're ready to believe in yourself.
The Basement Studio Days
After making the switch to digital, I became completely obsessed with learning everything I could. As you can see in the photos above, I would spend countless hours in my parents' basement with my friends, hanging white bedsheets to create makeshift backdrops and experimenting with whatever lighting I could find. We didn't have a professional studio or expensive equipment, just creativity, curiosity and a willingness to try. Every afternoon became another opportunity to practice posing, understand light, play with camera settings and discover how small changes could completely transform an image. Looking back now, those simple basement photo shoots were some of the most important lessons I ever had. They taught me that great photography isn't about having the perfect gear, it's about seeing potential, experimenting without fear and falling in love with the process of creating something meaningful.
If you've enjoyed following my journey so far, thank you for being here. Looking back on these memories has reminded me just how many little moments shaped the photographer I am today. Next week, I'll be sharing the next chapter of my story and how my passion for photography truly took off during high school and university. It was a time filled with new opportunities, bigger challenges and experiences that helped transform a childhood hobby into the career I have today. I can't wait to share it with you. Talk to you then!