I grew up in the 70’s. Dirt, tree climbing, riding in the back of Dad’s truck with my sisters, treat day, forts in the woods beside our house. I remember tiptoeing down the squeaky hardwood floors in the hall and carefully returning Mom’s Kodak camera and disposable flash to the appropriate top dresser drawer, after a ‘photo-shoot’ of the backyard bunnies, a mud pie or my new pet snail. I was always sure to leave Mom a shot or two on the roll of film, BUT THE FLASH BULBS WERE USUALLY EMPTY. When I’d hear the cries of frustration, as she shot the first and last frame, I’d b-line for the swing set or make myself scarce. I am sure she knew it was me, but “Mr. Nobody” who also lived at our house, usually took the blame.

I guess you could say I have always loved to take photographs. To me, as a child, if I didn’t take a photo of the interesting things in my world around me, HOW WAS I EVER GOING TO REMEMBER them when I was an old, old lady of 30? Now as a Mother I can appreciate how lucky children are to be so present, to live in the moment and to be so captivated and inspired by the world they explore. I am inspired and excited to share in this world with children and capture the moments in our lives that are SO FLEETING AND BEAUTIFUL.

I was always encouraged to follow my dreams and that ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE. That encouragement has brought me to cross the Atlantic twice in a sailboat. Hitch hike around my Mothers homeland of Ireland, where I figured out that the “gift of gab” wasn’t exclusive to my Mother, and that other people “play spoons” at parties. I also realized after I invested 2 years into the Professional Photo Imaging Diploma from Langara College,  I could become the master of my dreams and wake up each morning with excitement, inspiration and enthusiasm for how I make a living. 10 years later and I still feel the same.

I strive to offer the same encouragement I was blessed with to my own children. My Kindergartener is always dreaming of building a time machine. Sometimes it is made from recycled paper, dirt or most recently cement, mixed with a whole lot of imagination. I build my TIME MACHINE WITH MY CAMERA. Whenever I miss my Dad, who still guides be from the astral plain, I look at the portrait I took of him that hangs in my own squeaky hall. When I can’t believe that my youngest Son is now able to look over the counter, I gaze at the portraits I have from his birth.

MEMORIES FADE, moments are fleeting, CAPTURE THEM before they slip away…