I was born in Beirut and moved to Texas almost three decades ago. But the story really starts earlier than that, before the move, before the business, back when I was a kid who fell in love with two things at almost exactly the same time: photography and music.
I was no older than ten. I didn’t know then that a camera would become my life’s work. I only knew that both of these things, the image and the sound, pulled at me in the same way. I never learned to play an instrument, and I’m at peace with that. What I have instead is a deep, lifelong relationship with music as a listener and a student of it. I listen constantly. I think about how a piece is built, how it breathes, where it lingers and where it moves.
That might sound like a detour in a photographer’s story, but for me it’s the center of it.
Why I think about photography the way I think about music
I’ve come to believe that making a photograph is a lot like composing a piece of music, or, honestly, like building a perfume. There’s structure, but there’s also intuition. There’s rhythm and there’s timing. And when I’m working a wedding or a shoot, that sense of rhythm helps me in ways I can’t fully explain. I’ll anticipate a moment a half-second before it happens: a glance, a laugh, a hand reaching for another hand. I don’t always know how I knew it was coming. I just know that the same instinct that lets me feel where a song is going lets me feel where a moment is going.
Nearly fifty years behind a camera will do that. The craft becomes something you carry in your body, not just your hands.
The leap
For years, photography lived alongside another career. I worked in business banking, and I was good at it, a national achiever recognized for my work. I genuinely loved that job, for a long time. And then, slowly, I didn’t. The thing I’d been good at stopped being the thing I wanted to give my days to.
So about fifteen years ago, I left. I turned the craft I’d loved since childhood into my full-time work. I don’t describe it as escaping a bad job, because it wasn’t a bad job. It was a good one I’d outgrown. Walking away from something you’re successful at is its own kind of decision. It takes conviction. That conviction is the same thing I bring to every client I work with now.
What I love to photograph
People ask what my specialty is, and the honest answer is that I love more than one thing, and I refuse to rank them.
I love storytelling, which is why weddings, love stories, and elopements are so close to my heart. There’s nothing like being trusted to document the most important day of someone’s life. But I’m equally drawn to fashion, beauty, editorial, and lifestyle work, where the story is built rather than caught. And for my own projects, I shoot architecture and abstract work, the quieter, more structural side of seeing.
Here’s something I mean sincerely: not one of the hundreds upon hundreds of weddings, sessions, and people I’ve photographed was ever “better” or “lesser” than another. Each one stayed with me. Each one mattered. I’ve never treated a single shoot as routine, and after all these years, I still don’t.
What I want you to know
If you’re reading this because you’re thinking about trusting me with your wedding, your portrait, or your brand, here’s what I’d want you to walk away knowing.
I’m experienced, genuinely and deeply experienced, with nearly five decades of shooting behind me and fifteen years building this into a business. I’m someone you can trust, and I don’t take that word lightly. And I’m confident, not in a way that talks over you, but in a way that lets you relax and be present, because you know the person behind the camera knows exactly what they’re doing.
You deserve a photographer who has done this long enough to anticipate the moment, and who still cares enough to be moved by it. That’s who I try to be every single time I pick up the camera.
I’d love to hear your story. Let’s create something together.
