Why Your Space Deserves to Be Photographed With Intention

I’ve spent a lot of time in other people’s spaces, carefully observing the way light hits a well-loved corner, the story a certain chair placement tells, the quiet elegance of a thoughtfully chosen palette. And I’ve learned something: when someone takes the time to create a space that feels good to be in, that deserves to be seen. You could be inspiring others through sharing.

That’s where my work begins. Here’s how my journey into photography led me to focus on architecture and interiors.

Before I ever picked up a camera professionally, I was captivated by the way design could shape how we feel in a space. I got my start during an 11-year collaboration with a custom home architect in Palo Alto. Working so closely with someone who cared deeply about intention and craft gave me more than just technical experience, it taught me how to see. I began to notice the story behind each line, each finish, each carefully chosen detail.

What made that time especially impactful was the ongoing feedback I received from architects and design teams. Hearing their insights on perspective, proportion, and how they wanted their work to be interpreted through photography pushed me to refine my eye and sharpen my approach. It taught me to listen closely, collaborate thoughtfully, and honor the design’s intention through every frame.

That curiosity led me to photograph homes for Airbnb for seven years, capturing spaces that were both beautiful and lived in. There, I learned how to make rooms feel warm and welcoming through the lens, even when no one was home. I also served as a Photo Editor for Luxe Airbnb, where I reviewed countless images and developed a strong sense for what makes a space come alive on screen. It was an honor to work with such a talented team, and I miss my hilarious desk buddy.

 
 

So, when you invite me into your space, whether it’s a newly designed interior, a creative studio, or your personal sanctuary, I’m not just showing up with a camera. I’m bringing years of experience in architecture, design, and editorial storytelling. I know how to highlight the work you've poured your heart into, whether that’s a bold design choice or the quiet magic in your everyday surroundings.

My approach is collaborative, natural, and grounded in care. I’ll guide the shoot with a calm presence and a clear eye, always looking for the angles, textures, and moments that reflect your vision and personality. Because at the end of the day, the best photos are the ones that feel like the space you created professionally or personally.

If you're a designer, creative, or homeowner who wants your space documented with the same thoughtfulness that went into creating it, I’d love to connect.

Let’s make something beautiful together.

Capturing Craft: A Sonder Portrait with Zeli

I photographed the incredibly talented Zeli, a boutique nail artist with a gift for detail and color, for a recent environmental portrait session. 🌿💅


We shot in her creative space, surrounded by the tools of her craft. We also used the backyard with some lovely flowers.

At the end of the session, she told me, “You made me feel so relaxed and comfortable”. That’s exactly what I want every client to say and that’s what the Sonder Portrait Experience is all about; stepping into your world, learning what lights you up, and capturing it with care.


If you’re a small business owner or creative who wants portraits that feel like you in your element, doing what you love, I’d love to connect and help you build your brand.


New Service: In-Home Pet Photo Sessions

After losing my sweet cat Marcus last year, my days shifted in ways I couldn’t have expected. The quiet routines we shared—the way he’d sit with me as I drink my morning coffee, the way he always greeted me at the door, the weight of his little body at the foot of the bed, those everyday moments suddenly became precious memories.

In the midst of my grief, I found myself clinging to the photographs I had taken of him over the years. Not the posed ones, but the ordinary ones: Marcus in a patch of sunlight, watching birds through the window, or draped lazily across the couch. Those images grounded me. They told the story of our life together—not polished or perfect, just real and deeply loved.

That experience sparked something in me.

I realized how powerful it is to have images that reflect the quiet bond we share with our pets, right where that bond is formed: at home. So I'm launching a new offering “In-Home Pet Photo Sessions” for people who want to preserve the heart of their life with their animals, just as they are now.

These sessions are designed to be natural and relaxed. No pressure, no stiff posing. Just you and your pet in the space you share every day, captured with care, patience, and attention to detail. Whether you’re marking a milestone or simply want to honor the season you're in, these portraits are about telling your story, full of love, warmth, and connection.

If you’ve ever wanted to freeze time, even just for a moment, I’d be honored to help you do that.

You can learn more about the sessions here and on the flyer below or reach out directly if you have questions.

Thanks for being here and for supporting this new chapter.

From the Edge of the Bed: Rest

Thank you so much for being here and joining me on this journey. I’ve already felt so much support since sharing this project, and it truly means a lot. I’ll be continuing to post here on the blog as the project unfolds, so stay tuned.

One of the biggest shifts for me through this process has been learning to stop instead of always pushing through. I’m naturally ambitious and driven, so slowing down didn’t come easy. But during the pandemic in 2020, I was forced to practice rest. Work came to a halt, and I spent about nine months unemployed. As hard as that was, it gave me the space to breathe, and honestly, it was a hidden blessing.

These days, I still put in long hours, but I’ve learned to listen when my body asks for rest. If I need to lie down, I do, whether it’s for five minutes or the whole day. I’ve stopped seeing rest as a weakness. It’s part of how I care for myself while continuing to pursue what I love. Monet, as always, is right there beside me.

Yesterday, I felt good, good enough to wash my car. I knew I’d be sore afterward, and I was. But on the days my body gives me a little more room, I take it. Doing small, everyday things reminds me of who I am beyond the pain.

A close-up of a hand holding four green-and-white capsules labeled "NORTRIPTYLINE 10 mg." A person lying on a pink bedspread with their legs extended, a gray tabby cat resting nearby, and a cluttered bedroom with clothes on a chair in the background.

Sneak Peek: From the Edge of the Bed

Have you ever been in so much pain that you didn’t know what to do with yourself? Lost faith, lost interest, lost motivation for life?

I have. And I still do at times.

I’m a chronic pain sufferer, living with fibromyalgia, a condition that has taken me through some of the darkest, most confusing seasons of my life. It’s taken away things I love. Simple things. Like going for a walk. Moving my body. Feeling strong.

At first, no one understood what was happening. Honestly, neither did I. I saw doctor after doctor, got MRIs and X-rays, tried acupuncture, chiropractic care, Z-therapy, physical therapy, a nutritionist, many diet changes. And still, no answers. I remember one day sitting in my doctor’s office and saying, “I’m at the end of the road. I don’t know what else to do. What can you do? Because I give up.”

Looking back, the signs were there. In my early 20s, I had mild symptoms, but I could still work out, lift weights, push through. But by 26, the pain became unbearable. After workouts, I’d feel like my body was on fire. Sometimes I’d vomit from the pain. I stopped exercising altogether. From the outside, it probably looked like I was just letting myself go, or being dramatic. But the truth is, I was hurting. Deeply.

Desperate to function, I started taking Advil and muscle relaxers several times a day. Every day. Who knows what damage that did. Eventually, I was prescribed a low-dose antidepressant, not for depression, but to target the nervous system and help reduce pain. It didn’t fix everything, but it gave me more good days. Days where I could walk. Days where I could start to heal.

But even now, the bad days still come. Some days I can’t do the things I want to do. I still struggle with movement, spasms, and grief over the body I once had.

I’ve had to come to terms with this new body. I’ve had to learn how to offer it compassion. To show myself grace. To love this version of me that is softer, slower, and still standing. I’ve also had to let go of people who didn’t understand. But I’ve learned this: I’m the only one who has to live in this body. And that makes it worthy of love, respect, and care.

This photo project From the Edge of the Bed is a visual diary of life with chronic pain. It’s about the full spectrum: the days where everything feels too heavy to bear, and the days where I feel optimistic and like myself again, where I can move through the world a little lighter. I’ve been on a slow and steady journey to improve my health, my mental health, and engage in life.

It’s going to be raw. It’s going to be vulnerable. I’ll be showing my body as it is, tired, healing, soft, scarred. I’ll be uncomfortable. I’ll be bold. I’ll be honest.

Because this is my truth. And I know I’m not alone and neither are you.