My love for photography began when I first got my little hands on my dads Yashica ___________.
I wasn't yet allowed to bring the 10-year-old camera along with me but my dad would often buy me disposable cameras to help me gain practice.
I like to believe that my passion for photography was hand down by my Nonno (grandfather). In his early twenties, he would make ends meet by attending four to six weddings a weekend, snapping photos of the guests on his Polaroid camera, and selling the photos for a _____ a pop. He wasn't a professional photographer. He worked in factories and lumber yards for most of his life but he enjoyed capturing these moments for others while taking some advantage of the open bar.
These stories and photos of the past have greatly influenced my shooting style. Although many may strive for a smooth, high definition photo, I find beauty in the imperfections. The slight blur of a hand reaching across the table. Fallin flower petals and coffee-stained linen. Recreating the moment as it is and capturing the *mood* has always been my *main goal*