What first inspired you to pick up a camera, and when did you realize photography was going to become more than just an interest for you?

I first picked up a camera out of curiosity, it was less about wanting to be a “photographer” and more about wanting to see. Growing up, I always felt like I was on the outside looking in, and the VHS cameras gave me a way to take ownership of that perspective. I realized it was more than just an interest the first time I developed film and held the negatives in my hands during Covid. That feeling of freezing time, of making something tangible. That’s when I knew this wasn’t a hobby.

You’ve worked across different creative pursuits before focusing on photography - how did those experiences shape the way you see and capture images today?
Before photography, I came from acting and filmmaking, and both of those left a permanent mark on how I see. Acting taught me about vulnerability, about the subtleties in a person’s face and body language. Filmmaking taught me pacing, tone, and how light controls emotion. So when I shoot now, I’m not just looking for a beautiful frame. I’m looking for a story, for an atmosphere. I approach every image like it’s a scene in a movie.

Film is central to your practice. What drew you to working with film in particular, and how does it affect the way you approach a shoot?

I’d always been fascinated with film since I was a kid, but I never had the opportunity to try it for myself. During COVID, when life slowed down and everything felt still, I finally decided to follow my intuition and pick it up. I had been watching YouTube videos of other film photographers, and something about their process just pulled me in.

What really drew me to film wasn’t just the look, it was the experience, being involved from start to finish, from loading the roll to developing the negatives, without the constant pressure or expectation of instant results like digital. Film taught me to slow down, to let go, and to be present with the process. That patience and intentionality has completely shaped the way I approach every shoot.

You often reimagine historical narratives through your own lens. Can you share the first time you felt compelled to rewrite a moment from history through photography?

At the very beginning of my journey in photography, my mentor told me, “Know the stories you want to tell, and be remembered by.” Those words stuck with me. The first time I truly understood what that meant was when I started reflecting on how rarely we saw Black people represented in certain eras of visual history, not because we weren’t there, but because we were deliberately excluded. That absence always made me feel a certain way.

So I created Black Utopia, a series that places African Americans into historical moments where society had erased us. The very first shoot I did, The Black Kennedys, felt like reclaiming stolen ground. It wasn’t just about making an image, it was about correcting a narrative and giving presence to stories that should have always been seen.

Your images have a cinematic quality, almost like stills from a film. Do you think about your photographs as part of larger “scenes” or storylines?

Absolutely. Every photograph to me is a frame ripped out of a longer film. I’m obsessed with what happens before and after the moment you see. I want people to look at an image and imagine the sound, the atmosphere, the untold story. That cinematic sensibility isn’t something I add later. It’s baked into how I compose, light, and direct from the very start.

Collaboration seems essential to your work, especially in transforming everyday individuals into powerful symbols. What’s your process when working with models to achieve that?

My process starts with conversation. I want to know who they are, how they move. I’m not looking to just pose someone, I’m looking to bring out a side of them that maybe they don’t even know exists. Once they step into wardrobe, into the scene, I direct them like characters. I give them context, I give them energy to embody. That’s how people transform, because they believe in the moment just as much as I do.

Early in your journey, you worked with Tyler Shields. What lessons or insights from that time continue to influence your work today?

Working with Tyler taught me how far you can push an idea when you’re fearless. He doesn’t play it safe, and that stuck with me. From him, I learned the importance of committing fully, whether people like it or hate it, you have to make them feel. That courage to provoke, to take risks, is something I carry with me in every project.

Alongside your photography, you also create YouTube videos that share your process and perspective. What role does that platform play in how you connect with your audience?

YouTube allows me to break the fourth wall. Photography can sometimes feel like a finished product on a wall, distant & polished. But YouTube gives people access to the journey, the mistakes, the philosophy behind the work. It’s where I get to be vulnerable, honest, and let people into the process. That connection builds trust, and trust is everything when you’re asking people to see the world through your lens.

You’ve already made a strong impact in a short period of time. Looking ahead, are there any upcoming projects you’re looking forward to sharing?

Yes, the biggest one for me right now is my debut as a director with the feature film: DISTRO. It was written by my best friend, Derek Ellis, and it’s a neo-noir crime drama set in 1990s Los Angeles. Stepping into filmmaking feels like a natural extension of the way I already approach photography, cinematically and narratively.

At the same time, I’m continuing to expand my Black Utopia series with new narrative stories. I have a few 1950’s inspired shoots releasing very soon that I’m really excited about. I don’t want to give too much away yet, but it’s one of those projects that feels both playful and powerful. The work continues, and I’m just excited to keep pushing these stories forward.