When I think back on where this all began, I can still picture those two little cameras from my elementary school days. One was a top viewfinder with a screen, and the other was an old Polaroid with a telescoping lens and an accordion-style bellows. Neither had film, but that didn’t stop me. I carried them everywhere, pretending to frame shots, imagining what the world might look like through my lens.
Whenever I wanted to take a “real” photo, I’d beg my parents to let me use their little Kodak 110 camera. I promised I wouldn’t waste film — sometimes successfully, sometimes not.
Fast forward a few decades, and photography found its way back to me. My wife had a Nikon DSLR she’d occasionally use for family photos. One year for our anniversary, I decided to surprise her with an upgrade — a Canon M50. Let’s just say that “gift” became my daily companion almost immediately. I started bringing it to Cross Country meets, photographing my kids, experimenting with nature and the night sky. My old love for photography came roaring back in my 40s. It’s proof that it’s never too late to reignite a passion.
The Moment Everything Clicked
The real turning point came one late night while I was editing photos and designing graphics from a Cross Country meet. My wife came downstairs and, in the softest, most sincere tone, said something along the lines of, “It seems like you really love this.”
I don’t remember every word of that conversation, but I’ll never forget the way it made me feel. For the first time in my life, I had found something I truly loved — something that stirred passion, curiosity, and joy all at once. That moment brought a tear to my eye, and from that night on, she’s been my biggest supporter. Through every late night, every learning curve, every hurdle — my wife and kids have been my true motivation for everything I do.
Learning, Growing, and Building
My first “real” sessions weren’t fancy — they were free senior and family shoots to get my feet wet. I photographed my daughter’s friends, Alex and Alexa, who ran Cross Country with her. That little Canon M50 worked overtime, and as I grew more confident, I began investing every spare dollar into better gear: first a Canon R6, then my RF 70–200mm f/2.8 lens, and eventually strobes, softboxes, light stands — piece by piece, like putting together a puzzle.
In those early days, I focused on natural light. I learned how to use the environment, differentiate between good light and harsh light, and use reflectors (both physical and natural) to shape my images. Over time, I noticed that the work I admired most came from photographers using off-camera flash. The vibrant colors, the crisp definition — that inspired me to evolve my style toward OCF (Off-Camera Flash) photography. It’s now a signature part of my look.
Of course, it wasn’t always easy. Starting out in photography can be lonely. I didn’t have a mentor. I didn’t always feel welcomed by other photographers. Extended family often treated it like a “hobby phase.” Some peers saw competition instead of community. But those obstacles became motivation. This is my journey — not anyone else’s — and those struggles only pushed me to get better.
My shooting process has matured too. I used to spray and pray with thousands of shots per session. Now, I’m selective. I dial in settings carefully to get it right in camera, which means less editing and more intentional art. For me, nailing the shot in-camera is the ultimate satisfaction.
My Brand: What Dicetography Stands For
If I had to describe my style in a few words, it would be: dramatic, clean, crisp, vivid colors. I want my images to pop.
More than anything, I want clients to feel something when they see their images. I want them to love them, share them, and print them. Too many people leave their memories sitting on hard drives. There’s nothing quite like holding a tangible print that stirs emotion every time you walk past it on the wall.
What makes Dicetography unique is simple: We’re family. Literally. My wife, my daughters, and occasionally my son (if you’re lucky) are part of almost every session. We genuinely enjoy hanging out with our clients, getting to know their stories, and making them feel like part of our extended family. It’s not a marketing tactic — it’s who we are.
Our core value is to make people see themselves differently. Too often, people say they “hate how they look in photos.” My goal is to change that. If someone looks at one of my portraits and says, “I look beautiful,” then I know I’ve done my job.
Inspiration and Balance
My inspiration comes from a blend of the old and the new — the timeless art of Norman Rockwell and Ansel Adams, the pages of vintage magazines, and the fresh techniques of modern photographers pushing creative boundaries.
When burnout hits, I step away. I spend time with family, watch old movies, or simply give my mind space to breathe. Ironically, that’s often when new ideas come to me — when I’m not trying to force them.
I also separate creativity from business intentionally. When I’m not shooting, I focus on improving systems, marketing, or processes. It keeps my creative brain fresh. And I’ve learned to tune out local “noise” on social media — comparison is a creativity killer. Instead, I go out into the world, observe, and look for beauty in unexpected places.
Lessons and Looking Forward
If photography has taught me anything, it’s that beauty is subjective. Everyone has a different idea of what good art looks like. You can’t take it personally if someone doesn’t connect with your work. Keep creating. Keep improving.
If I could talk to my beginner self, I’d say: “Master lighting and your camera first. Your gear is your tool — understand it fully so it doesn’t hold back your vision.”
My ultimate goal is to make photography my full-time career — to create a life for my family where we have the freedom to live and travel doing what we love. Balancing a photography business with a full-time job isn’t easy, but every step brings me closer.
In Closing
This journey has been anything but linear. It’s been filled with childhood dreams, late-night conversations, quiet doubts, passionate learning, family support, and a relentless desire to create something meaningful.
Dicetography isn’t just about taking photos. It’s about capturing emotion, building connections, and telling stories — mine, and yours.
