When my children were small they would always ask me what I want to be when I grow up. I was always a little stumped. I would tell them I want to be a good mom. But I know the kind of answer they’re looking for. The truth is, I’m still growing and learning, and I hope they feel allowed to do the same.

I grew up on a vegetable farm, where the seasons ran the schedule and work was just part of life. And, quite honestly, I LOVED IT! From April to October there was no such thing as “nothing to do”. Seeding, planting, weeding, picking, preserving. Long days were followed by great meals, and on weekends the table usually grew. That upbringing made me notice effort, craft, and honest work. The care behind what someone makes. It’s also why food still means so much to me. Growing it, making it, sharing it… and yes, photographing it.

Photography found me when I was a teenager. When I was 17 I borrowed an old Pentax Super for a trip to France and Italy. I ruined most of my photos from France because I didn’t understand the basics yet. It sounds like a small thing, but it changed me. Those places, those moments, I’ve never been back. And even if I return one day, they won’t be the same. That was the first time I really understood the value of capturing something you may never experience again.

In Italy, one of my uncles who is a photographer, taught me how to use the camera properly. I spent two years there assisting in studio and on weddings, learning to work with natural light and simple direction. What stayed with me wasn’t just photography it was a new sense of humanity. Seeing how my family lived there compared to our life in Canada sparked something in me. A desire to pay attention, to notice people, and to hold onto the feeling of a moment before it passes.

When I came back to Canada, I was enrolled in university because it felt like the safe path. One day, in my parents kitchen, I saw a job ad looking for a photographer willing to learn. On impulse, I called the university and cancelled my enrolment. I remember my mom being shocked and I remember myself feeling completely free. For the first time, I chose something that fit.

I opened my first studio in 1998 with my then-boyfriend, now life partner. Since then, I’ve worked across many corners of photography; people, commercial work, editorial, seasons of building and rebuilding. From the moment I decided photography was my path, I’ve kept learning. Lighting, composition, posing, storytelling, how to make the process feel calm and the results feel true. Video became a natural extension of that same work – paying attention, shaping a story, and capturing what’s real.

Today I’m a photographer and videographer based in Southwestern Ontario. I work with small businesses, personal brands, and food and drink brands—especially the ones who care deeply about what they do. Artisanal makers. New restaurants making everything from scratch. Wellness practitioners who serve with heart. Farmers, growers, and the businesses built around them. The people I’m drawn to aren’t in it because it was safe, they’re in it because it matters to them.

Outside of client work, I also co-run Nonna’s Way, a project built with my good friend Anna, where our love of family, food, gardening, and culture come together. It’s our way of preserving our Nonna’s recipes and traditions—and it keeps me rooted in the same things that first made me love food in the first place: memory, craft, and the way a table can hold a whole life.

My work is for people who bring passion to their work and to their clients. The goal isn’t to make you look like something you’re not. It’s to capture you properly, faithfully. So the care you put into what you do is felt by the people you’re trying to reach.

Clients often tell me the shoot felt easy. Calm. That they felt at ease, and that I saw things they didn’t even realize in the moment. That’s always the compliment that means the most to me because it’s exactly what I’m trying to do. Capture the feeling behind a brand, not just the surface of it.

When I’m not working, I’m usually outside gardening, preserving food, camping, hiking, biking, paddling. Or at home in an old house with a stone foundation that we’ve been rebuilding with a lot of love, sweat, and tears. I’m drawn to things that last, and I think that’s what I’m always trying to make, too.

If you’re proud of what you do, and you want it portrayed with care, I’d love to work with you.