I often think more about how I will create something than what I will create. The choice of which tools I use is essential because it is often the restrictions they pose that determine what I make.

We live in a time where technology has made so much of what we do easy and instant. It has become increasingly difficult to appreciate the process and has made the practice of being present especially challenging for me.

It has been just over a year since I began shooting on film. I was once reluctant to explore the medium because of its tedious nature, but I quickly realized that was exactly what makes it so valuable. One has no choice but to slow down when shooting on film. They must observe their environment deeply and have intention with every image they capture. They must be present.

Every day during my final semester at university, I carried two fifty-year-old cameras: a hefty five-pound medium format Mamiya and a nearly broken Polaroid. Their contrasting personalities reshaped the way I saw my school and community. The Mamiya offered a slow, solitary experience — deliberate and thoughtful — while the Polaroid brought vibrancy and immediacy, inviting spontaneity and connection.

In many ways, these two approaches mirrored how I’ve always experienced school, even without a camera. It’s interesting how naturally I was able to translate those feelings into images — something tangible to remember them by.