Picture This

The woman lives a thousand lives. She is the mother crooning lullabies to the night, the little girl chasing fireflies, and the romantic lost in figments of her imagination. She is the widow, the witch, and the warrior, the siren, seductress, and saint. The woman is my immortal muse. And lucky for me, photography is the secret key to every one of her incarnations. I love this magical medium because it allows me to explore the question of what it means to be a woman, both in our inner lives and in the prying eyes of society. 

Photography is both a personal and collective process. While my own lived experiences have always inspired my creative philosophy, I welcome other women from all walks of life into the frame. In doing so, I make their story my own, visualizing how our experiences reveal the unique struggles and joys of the female experience. Knowing my muses allows me to capture their personalities and quirks, all while making my world bigger and brighter. 

Of course, to be a good photographer, you need to be a storyteller. I tell tales of the exhaustion behind a forced smile, the relief of unclasping your bra at the end of the night, and the day-to-day rebellions of trimming your own bangs or throwing on your wildest outfit. Whether I am snapping portraits at a protest, shooting a family cookout, or taking street flicks in my favorite city, photography introduces me to people and places I’d otherwise never know. 

Swapping different base cameras and lenses helps me capture the details of the soul as closely as possible. I photograph freckles sprinkled across a nose, salt-crusted mascara tears, chipped red polish like wilted petals, and other remnants of lives well-lived. By experimenting with wider lenses, photography allows me to ground each portrait in a specific time and place. A rustic room, a garden gate, or a stormy sky can be just as intimate as the dimples of a smile or the glint of a tear. 

From the blaze of the midday sun to the austerity of hospital fluorescents, my images are as nostalgic and surreal as a hazy childhood dream. Knowing how much patriarchy can bleach women of their brilliance, I choose to drench my life and my art with vibrancy. I revel in the lush greens of Mother Earth and the rosy cheeks of awkward teenage girls. Sometimes, a trace of fuchsia, a streak of emerald, or a pool of blood-red can be the most striking windows to the soul.

It happens like magic. With a click of the shutter and a whir of the lens, photography transports me to another world. A world of make-believe. A world where women can be anything and everything. A world of bold beginnings. All I have to do is select my weapon of choice, pop the cap, press a button, and boom! I am an artist, activist, and author. And on those days when I am meandering the street with my camera slung around my shoulder, I am adventurer. Every color seems to pop, and every passerby smiles my way. I start noticing things I’d otherwise brush aside: my warped reflection in muddy puddles, shadows veined like watercolors, mother and son reunited after years apart. By forcing me to stop and look around, my photos make even the mundane miraculous. 

The beauty of all of it is this: photography is whatever you make it. Whether you use studio lights or just your trusty iPhone, this mesmerizing medium is for everyone. There is no right way to do it: photos can be grotesque or beautiful, melancholic or cheerful. They can be chemistry, art, therapy, and love. With my camera in hand, I feel omnipotent. I can slow down time or bring it roaring back to life. I can bottle up lightning strikes, catch ghosts from my past, and build entire universes from scratch. 

Even though this is just the beginning of my journey with the camera, I hope that others who have felt both confined and liberated by the concept of womanhood will find their way to this enchanting art. Mostly, I want my photography to promote a more inclusive world for women and artists of every kind to tell their stories.