December 2016

When I was 11, my father worked at a high-quality printing company as a color image assembler. He would take film and strip each print layer-by-layer, working on the single image with such precision and detail. I can still remember the unique smell of ink, paper, and processing fluids. I learned how film was taken out of a canister and slowly developed. How a simple black strip of plastic, turned into something beautiful that told a story. It was at that age that my Uncle Charlie gave me my first camera, a Minolta Maxxum 7000, and my passion for photography began.

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