about me
Hi, my name is MR. I’m a self-taught photographer in Chicago. For me, photography is a way to connect with myself, connect with the world around me, and connect with my father who I never really got to know.
I’m not sure what drew me to photography initially, but I asked for a camera for my birthday when I was maybe 15. My mom got me a basic point-and-shoot camera. I took it to school to use it with my friends, but the table I was sitting at got jumped, so my new camera got stolen.
Photo courtesy of Jolene Sage Photograpy
My brothers felt bad and chipped in to replace the camera. I used it all the time. I loved the way the world looked through the lens. I started learning to edit with Photoshop, trying to make my photographs look the way the moment made me feel.
Eventually I upgraded to an entry-level, compact Olympus camera for travel photography. I traveled pretty hard around the country with it. I used it for years until the dials stopped working. I missed shooting, a lot, but I couldn’t afford to get a new camera.
St. Boniface Catholic Church, Chicago
In 2020 I miraculously got a stable job right as the COVID-19 pandemic started. I was finally able to invest in a camera system, currently a Sony Alpha 6100. Using interchangeable lenses opened up a whole new world for me creatively. And the cool part is, once I started putting my work out there, I started to get a lot of love back in return.
Around this time, I also stumbled on my father’s film camera in my family home’s attic. But you have to realize: my family home had a house fire years back – not many objects survived the fire, smoke, and water damage. And after that, whatever was salvageable was taken by the cleanup crew for resale. So how the hell was this film camera still in the attic – in pristine condition aside from a dusty case? Like how? And why?
Lovingly restored Minolta SRT-101
Wabash Street - this was the first shot I took with the film camera. But I can pretend I did it on purpose!
When I was about 5 months old my father had an accident that left him with a severe traumatic brain injury and permanent disability. The words we have been able to exchange are few and far between. I’ve only really gotten to know him in fragments and stories that others have told me about the man he used to be. One thing he used to be was a photographer, but I have never seen his photographs.
When I found his camera, a Minolta SRT-101, there was a roll of film inside! I thought man, this could really be something. I had this hopeful, painful wish that I could have a glimpse at his worldview through 24 frames. I anxiously went downtown to Central Camera to have them inspect the camera and develop the roll.
And what could I really do aside from take a deep breath, swallow hard, and keep going? I could let my dad’s camera continue to collect dust and remain stagnant, its final purpose signifying a tragic memory. Or I could breathe life into it with love and craft, building some sort of bridge to connect us across space, time, and memories that we never had together.
I appreciate you reading this. For me, photography is a love letter to being alive, to all the beauty and all the ugliness, all at once. It helps me slow down and become completely open to receiving the gift of the present moment. Thanks for taking a look at what I’ve got to share and feel free to connect with me about any of it.
My first piece (film) exhibited in a gallery - Agitator Gallery in Chicago.
Down and dirty for the perfect shot.