At 5 years old, I was given my first camera and it was a huge turning point for me. I spent hours looking through the lens, isolating moments, stories and parts of bigger things. Through the lens the world seemed to be less complex.

Being behind the camera makes me a better person. It allows me to quietly observe and be a witness to life, which is precious to me. I find it humbling that no single moment can ever happen again, which is part of my fascination with photography. A photograph seems to be proof of what is or what was or what is about to be. Photographs can also misrepresent and be deceptive.

I am most pleased with images that are ironic, humorous or poignant. I also love the idea that a photograph can shift one’s consciousness. In my portraits, I hope to capture what is natural and authentic. Often I get lucky and find a gift in an image, something that I may not see when I take the photograph, something unexpected, behind the eyes, perhaps, that tells a story, maybe one that was not meant to be told. Our faces and eyes hold our experiences. When we see something clearly for the first time or feel inspired or another deep emotion, the molecules of the face shift and the energy and tension of our muscles and skin change. The camera can pick up these nuances.

I have a camera of some sort with me at all times and feel an obligation to present my perspective as an atypical historian. I am not certain why I feel this calling, except that my parents made me believe that my thoughts and feelings mattered. They taught me to listen to my own voice and trust it.

In general in life, I am rebellious and naturally drawn to the unconventional. I am happiest in blue jeans and a cowgirl snap shirt and secretly desire to own a winery someday, perhaps in Northern California, but my heart is in Texas.
                                                                                                                     Best wishes, Sheila