Walking away from something that should have killed you is life-changing in so many ways. It’s a bittersweet experience because while it caused me so much pain also gave me another shot to get life right. I’ll never take another day with my family and friends for granted and at the same time, every interaction becomes more important than the last.

This entire medical emergency changed how I approach photography and it greatly impacts your final gallery. I no longer chase perfectly posed pictures that give photography sessions the stressed-out, forced, unnatural reputation they have become known for.

Instead, I create an experience that will lead to lightly posed pretty pictures but mainly focuses on a heavily lived-in experience that is a true reflection of the raw, bittersweet, real, beautiful parts of life.

Why is this so important? Because I know what it feels like to lose parts of your memories. When I look back at pictures of my life before the stroke and ruptured brain aneurysm, I don’t connect with the staged ones. Instead, it’s the candid and raw shots that remind me of how I felt, even if I don’t remember the day itself.

So think of our time together as more than just taking pictures. Instead, picture it as creating a living legacy filled with huge smiles, belly-aching laughs, wind-blown hair, holding hands, lots of movement, kisses, hugs, and most of all, who you truly are.

You will love these pictures so much that you can’t imagine storing them online but instead want them in your hands, printed in storybook albums, adorning the hallways your children run down, and maybe even displayed at your grandchildren’s wedding one day.

If I can do that for you, then I’ve lived a meaningful life. And isn’t that what this journey is all about?