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When I was little, I constantly drew, painted, wrote, and generally made a mess. While I proudly gave the majority of my artistic endeavors to my family, I still have a folder of some of my drawings and construction paper cards, my old journals full of scribbles and recounts of what kindergarten was like. They’re from a time when everything felt fine, and, looking at these windows into my childhood, I can remember the joy and excitement I felt creating something. It feels like I can escape back into that childhood state of wonder when I skim through them. They’re messy and full of misspelled words, forever traced on the page with a strange mix of glitter gel pens and cheap markers for me to remember.

Photojournalism Showcase #2

February 12, 2021
There are nights where you look up at the sky you try to make out the stars through the clouds. You listen to the crickets chirping and maybe the neighbor’s dog barking. Sometimes you’re happy, sometimes you are sad. Sometimes you’re with someone and sometimes you’re lonely. But the moon is always there. Always giving light and a sense of security. Like a silent guide through the good and the bad times. Sometimes it’s fully there, sometimes it seems that there’s only half, sometimes you can’t see it, but it’s always there. Just giving light in the darkness. Life gets hard so take the time to relax, drink some tea and escape under a tree that’s under the stars and the moon.

Photojournalism Showcase #1

February 12, 2021
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