06/02/2026
It’s funny. I am my own harshest critic.
And I usually shut down anyone who calls me a perfectionist. Not because I don’t care deeply about my work, but because I’ve never looked at something I’ve created and thought, “There. That’s perfect.”
But looking at this photo, with its blown-out highlights and imperfect light, I’m realizing that perfect isn’t really what I’m after.
It’s always photos like this that draw me in.
The ones caught unposed, with awkward lighting and a small moment tucked between bigger ones.
These are almost always my favorites.
They make me pause.
Admire.
Feel a little deeper.
So I guess I don’t want flawless photographs.
I want the ones where you can almost feel the weather on your skin and hear the birds in the distance.
The ones that make you excited for people you’ve never met.
The ones that feel lived in.
A little wild.
A little nostalgic.
The kind that make you homesick for a moment you’re still standing in.
