About Your Photographer
Behind the Camera, With Intention
I’ve been seeing the world in pictures for as long as I can remember. Before phones had cameras, before I even knew what “photography” really meant — I was always framing things in my mind. As a kid, I drew constantly. It was how I made sense of things, how I stayed curious. When I got my hands on my mom’s digital camera in 2005 (well, “borrowed” it), I started with selfies, then slowly shifted to capturing light, texture, and quiet moments. Something clicked.
In high school, I took photography more seriously. We still had a darkroom then — I learned how to shoot on film, DSLR, experimented with stop motion, and learned photoshop. But when it came time to choose a career, I was encouraged to choose law. It seemed practical, respected — the right thing to do. I remember once telling my uncle, who had his DSLR slung over his shoulder, that I was thinking about becoming a photographer. He kindly told me not to. “It’s not a real career,” he said. That stuck. I enrolled in political science. But it never felt right.
Eventually, I changed directions and went to school for Business Management & Entrepreneurship. To my surprise, I loved it — especially the strategy, branding, and marketing side. I got good at building ideas into something real. After school, I landed a stable job in Public Service, a decent income, and work that made sense on paper, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had been left behind.
A few years ago, I hit pause on everything. I was burned out, dealing with a mental health crisis, and lost in my own story. It was during that time that I picked up my camera again — almost instinctively. I went on photo walks, I tinkered with old camera gear, did crafts with friends, and slowly came back to life. Creativity felt like home. I realized I didn’t just miss creativity — I missed myself.
So, I took the leap. I built Bonsai Studio Photo with the same care I once gave to every sketch, every photo, every impactful moment I didn’t want to forget. This isn’t just a business. It’s the continuation of a lifelong instinct — to see, to notice, to preserve. I’m not here for empty trends or throwaway content. I’m here to tell stories that matter — jumping out of the scroll and into real life.




_edited_edited_edited.png)