Photography, for me, began as a way to understand myself — a private language I built out of light and emotion. I started with self-portraits, not to be seen but to see. To pull the surreal world of my imagination into the real one and make sense of the feelings that didn’t have words yet. Somewhere in that process, photography stopped being a mirror and I strived for it to become a voice.

I’ve always been an observer. The kind of child who’d get lost in the small shifts of the world — how light stretches and softens across a wall, how colours change in the late afternoon, how leaves flicker when the wind decides to join in. Those moments still move me. The dust in sunlight, the sound of stillness. I think that’s where my fascination lies — in the spaces most people don’t stop to notice.

After years in an industry that so often worships one narrow face of beauty, I found myself asking what beauty even means. Who decided that perfection should be the goal? What happens to everyone who doesn’t fit inside that frame? Those questions led me back to what matters: the kind of beauty that isn’t polished, but more felt - if that makes sense ?

My work now is about telling stories of self-love, acceptance, and resilience — the kind of stories that live quietly inside people. I want to show that vulnerability can hold power, that softness can be radical, that emotion is not something to hide.

Because inclusivity isn’t a side note to my work….. it’s the whole point. The less diversity we see, the more unfamiliar it feels, and that unfamiliarity breeds distance. My aim is to close that distance. To make images that remind us difference is not otherness. That every face, every body, every truth deserves to be seen. Diversity without inclusion is decoration. Inclusion is where empathy lives.

I’m drawn to the subtle details for example - the traces we leave behind in rooms, the silence that hums between people, the invisible stories stitched through time. I want my images to hold space for all of that: the raw, the imperfect, the human. Because even in quiet moments, there’s always a story being told — one that belongs to all of us……..