eh, hills.
missed my goal but that’s what next year is for..
Cabo.
Honolulu, Hawaii.
Cuba.
Chichén Itzá. Yucatán, Mexico.
randomness..
basically it’s been raining in Atlanta for like a month straight… and for no reason here are some random clips from my camera roll.. Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there..
Part of an ongoing video/photo essay on Atlanta nightlife, captured on VHS Camcorder (Hi8).
randoms from the camera roll to the reel..
Atlanta’ish, 2025.
I keep a camera on me at all times.
I make images all the time.
So I’m sharing them, f*^# the need for perfect curation, just showing how I see and feel the world.
One learns by making.
That’s what this is.
Enjoying the process,
protecting my peace,
trusting what happens.
The risk is in showing up,
stepping into the world,
seeing it clearly,
and choosing to respond with love.
developing film and yeah….
a clip from Cuba on VHS …
@dammitdre and I at Atlanta Caribbean Carnival, 2025.
Year 4 of documenting..
Atlanta Caribbean Carnival, 2025.
randoms from the camera roll…
with love!
Hoops by Stan. Atlanta, 2025.
I grew up where basketball wasn’t just a game. It was the language. A way out. A way forward. A dream that carried every possibility for something better. And for a while, that dream felt real.
Hoops was supposed to be the way out. Every mid-range pull-up felt like one step closer to a better life for me and my family. Less work for mom and pops. It opened doors I never thought I’d walk through. Got me into college. Gave me purpose when life felt uncertain.
But dreams don’t always go the way you see them. Injuries. Setbacks. Reality checks. And the hard truth. The league wasn’t coming.
But not every broken dream is the end. Sometimes, it’s just a detour.
I aimed to make it to the league with my camera, even if my jumper didn’t. But don’t test it. It’s still ready.
I thought sitting courtside would be the next best thing. Big arenas. Big moments. But somewhere along the way, that vision stopped feeling like mine. I was creating for everyone else, chasing images that didn’t speak to the photographer or the person I knew I could be.
I lost my voice chasing a version of success that didn’t feel true to me.
I had to find my voice again.
To show how every image reflects how I connect with the game. The way I love it. The way I understand it. It’s about capturing what lingers when the noise fades. The focus in a player’s eyes. The weight of expectation in a pause. The story unfolding in the space between movement and stillness. It’s how I tell the truth of the game, my truth, photo by photo.
Atlanta, Ga 2025.
I needed to see again, to move without the weight of expectation, to document without chasing an outcome. What draws me in, what speaks to me, what am I open enough to receive.
Am I preserving something, capturing something real, something that will last? And if the moments I document don’t seem to carry meaning on the surface, do they still matter? Yes, because I am the one documenting, because I am the lens, because this is the world as I see it.
I pulled back, not to disappear, but to listen, to let the work speak to me instead of the noise. And in that quiet, I was reminded why I do this, why I pick up the camera, why I keep looking. The work is revealing itself, the projects are forming, the connections are becoming clear.
Sometimes, when you stop searching, the answers find you..
