about

Before I ever picked up a camera, I was in a kitchen.

Not as a hobbyist. As a cook—working the line, washing dishes until my hands bled, learning what it means to execute under pressure, to care about every detail even when no one's watching. I spent a decade in professional kitchens, working alongside chefs who understood that food isn't just sustenance. It's memory. It's identity. It's the thing people gather around when everything else falls away.

That's what I bring to every frame.

I grew up on Kauaʻi, where I learned early that the most beautiful things are rarely staged—they're caught. I spent my childhood sneaking out of bed to watch movies in the dark, transfixed by the way a single image could make you feel something you didn't have words for yet. I didn't know it then, but I was already becoming a photographer.

Today I work with some of the finest restaurants, hotels, chefs, and hospitality brands on the West Coast—from Michelin-starred kitchens in San Francisco to coastal inns on the California shoreline. My work has appeared in Food & Wine, the Michelin Guide, the James Beard Foundation, the Los Angeles Times, and beyond.

But the credential that matters most isn't on that list.

It's that I know what a kitchen feels like from the inside. I know the weight a chef carries into service. I know the difference between a dish that's beautiful and a dish that means something. And I know how to find that meaning and hold it still long enough for the rest of the world to see it.

Most photographers show up with a camera. I show up with the intention to make something timeless.

If you're building a brand, telling a story, or trying to create imagery that people actually feel—let's talk.