no detail untouched—without saying a word. To transport your audience to the very moment your shutter clicked, like they were there, standing in your shoes.
They say a photo is worth a thousand words, but they’re worth so much more than that for me.
Get comfy, I want to tell you the story of how photography saved me, made me, and continues to refine the man, artist, and educator I am today.
People will say, “change hit me like a freight train” but for me, it wasn’t just a figure of speech.
One day, on my way to work, I T-boned a car while riding my motorcycle. Bones were broken. Skin was burned. But the recovery that followed proved to be the biggest test of all.
Forced into a long period of rest, a buddy of mine suggested I pick up a hobby—something to keep me sane while my body healed.
That’s when I purchased my first camera. It was outdated, most definitely used, and just $100. Every single day I’d document my surroundings. The people. The places. The buildings. The interactions. The stories.
It felt like finally coming home. Realizing what I was made for all along. No longer running from the pain that made me, but running toward the thing that saved me and you’ll find my father and me alone in our home. Him, struggling to beat a gambling addiction; still reeling from my mother’s decision to leave. Me, chasing down trouble anywhere and everywhere I could; simply trying to make sense of life.
By my mid-teens, my dad kicked me out and my uncle took me in. It was in his home I learned and developed the mindset I still carry today. The one that says, “keep going” even when moving forward feels impossible. The one that says, “it’ll take work—but it’ll be worth it.”
Desperate to escape Dallas, I moved to Austin the moment I graduated. But instead of chasing down a dream, my demons chased me. I fell into old habits of addiction and desperation. Barely scraping by as a college drop-out serving tables.
Then an old boss took a chance on me. Asking if I’d photograph his wedding on the condition that it was unpaid (unless you count free food as payment). It was a no-brainer, deep in my bones, hell yes for me.
Leaving the wedding that night, I realized I hadn’t felt this sense of peace, inspiration, and joy in a long time (if ever). That’s when I decided, “This is it. This is what I want to spend the rest of my days doing.”
Now, nearly 6 years later, I haven’t put my camera down. I bought a new one of course (a few, actually), but that same overwhelming feeling still fills my body each and every time I photograph a wedding.
Not only was photography the creative outlet I needed to escape my less-than-great habits, but it’s also a career that’s afforded me the ability to create a life I genuinely love. One of great contrast to my upbringing.
And that’s exactly what I want to help other photographers like you do.
You’re always booked with clients you’re excited about
You feel confident setting rates that match your value and worth
Your year-over-year revenue is consistently increasing without you sacrificing life outside of work
You have ample time and energy to spend with the people you love, doing the things you love