My Why...

𝐌𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐲...

It's been awhile since I shared my story of why I really got into portrait photography.

It’s hard to believe it’s been over twenty years now. Back then, my best friend weighed about 1,500 pounds and was the absolute light of my life. His name was Shiloh—a stunning horse who taught me more about trust than any person ever could. I spent every single day with him, and he was the reason I last minute chose to stay home and commute to college. Naturally, he became the focus of many of my photography and painting projects.

But then, in the middle of the semester—and right in the middle of a major project about him—I lost him. Suddenly. Tragically. And everything changed.

I had to shift gears creatively and emotionally. That’s when I began to explore a new theme: what remains after loss. That was the moment the true value of photography hit me. Through the images I had captured, I could still grieve him, still feel close to him. I could literally hold onto pieces of him in my hands. And somehow, that made the heartbreak just a little more bearable. It drew me out of a very deep depression.

I knew the memories would fade with time—and they have. But to this day, his final portrait still hangs above my desk. It’s my reminder of why I do what I do and who he was.

Even now, writing this, the tears still come.

I think sometimes people take photos for the likes, or because it feels like the thing you're supposed to do. But let me tell you—one day, those photos will mean so much more. They’ll be treasures to your children and your grandchildren. Because eventually, we all become fading memories.

That’s why I create. I know the power of a photo on the wall. It's what I want to give this world. A lasting legacy.

In memory of my beautiful boy, Gettin’ it Dun, aka, “Shiloh”.