My father was an artist, a gifted painter who loved to capture the majestic war ships that carried him across the seven seas in his naval career. My father still lives, though his art has long since passed away. In my adolescence, I discovered his old 35mm Minolta that he bought while America was still at war in Vietnam. It was empty, imageless, bereft of its own purpose; and—as I took it into my hands—I found part of mine. As a lover of story—all kinds, I could tell them, or I could show them. Words sometimes fail me, but photography seldom does. I fight ceaselessly never to lay down the passion of capturing. I begin my photographic process by connecting with the subject—human or otherwise, through conversation, touch, quietude: a few present moments in which to convey personal warmth, positivity, and complete acceptance. The space before my lens is a safe place. The joy of my work comes when light brings the subject to vibrant life, and I am able to convey the phenomenon through a photographic capture. My best tool is absence of light for the gratitude and challenge to my craft it brings. When I work with people, I am reminded that we all are far more the same than we are different. Familiar fear of physical inadequacy and desire to be known and accepted just as we are become the faceless subjects present in every portrait. Will I like me when I see? I receive my subjects as they are with the mission to reveal to them their own beauty. When I am successful, I am empowered to connect and communicate in a unifying way that benefits my subject and me mutually. This is true of humans, landscapes, even inanimate objects. God willing, I leave the subject better than I found it. I know the work is complete when it feels the same visually as it seems to me at heart, intrinsically. Life is story. Words are optional. Sometimes, words even are obstacles. The transcendent stories of life and human existence—Love, Revelation, Sameness, the Aesthetic Sense—often are fragmented, distracted, and lost in verbal communication, but the visual language of photography is universal to those of us privileged with sight. My work is a visual voice for that which is voiceless, a thundering advocate of the recognition of worth. I am successful when I reveal the subject as it is and observe how it loves its own image. I am successful when the subject trusts my intentions and embraces the vision returning the gaze in a way that changes both for good. I am a midwife of life-changing observation, bidding the world, “See.”