There’s something about black and white photography that feels instantly timeless. Stripping away color doesn’t just change how an image looks—it transforms how it feels. It asks the viewer to linger a little longer, to focus on light, shadow, texture, and emotion. For me, black and white images seem to invite a deeper kind of storytelling.
When I first started with photography, I assumed creating black and white images was just a matter of removing the saturation. A quick tweak, and voilà—instant classic. But I’ve come to realize that’s a bit of a lazy approach. True black and white photography deserves intention and care. It demands a different way of seeing. Not all of the images in this post reflect that level of thoughtfulness—I’m still learning, still refining. But that’s part of the process.
Like many artists, I’m trying to hone my craft without being consumed by it. It’s so easy to disappear down the technical rabbit hole—chasing the perfect tone curve, the most flattering dynamic range, or the ideal conversion workflow. For some people, that path makes total sense. But for me, the learning needs to be more organic. I’ve always had a curious, creative mind with too many things I want to explore, and to spend weeks obsessing over the “perfect” black and white technique is something that doesn’t work for me. I’m not here to make the world’s greatest photo. I’m here to make my photo.
My goal is simple: to take beautiful images that reflect my perspective and capture the moments and experiences I witness. That’s it. And I’m grateful to have found a camera that’s reignited my curiosity and love for photography. Living in San Francisco played a big role in that—there’s something about the city that sparks creativity at every corner. Soon, I’ll be taking this camera with me to London and New York, and I can’t wait to see how those places shape the images I make.
For anyone curious, I’m currently shooting with the Nikon ZF paired with a small Nikon 40mm f/2.0 lens. And honestly? It’s the perfect combo for me. It’s compact, light, and sharp—and more importantly, it pushes me. I've thought about picking up a longer lens for more reach, but in truth, I like the challenge of this one. It forces me to get closer. To be present. To observe more carefully before I press the shutter. That kind of constraint fuels creativity it doesn’t limit it.
So, as you scroll through the images below, know that they’re part of an ongoing process. They reflect where I am now, not where I hope to be. I’m learning to see differently. To shoot with more intention. And most importantly, to keep showing up with curiosity and an open mind.
Thanks for taking the time to look through my perspective.
