Most people have a five-year plan.
I have a camera, a passport, and a long history of making decisions that sounded terrible until they worked.
So far, so good.

I've spent most of my adult life chasing images.

That pursuit has taken me across film sets, glaciers, deserts, cities, and more airport terminals than I care to remember. For over two decades I've worked in film and television as a Visual Effects Supervisor, contributing to productions such as Game of Thrones, Star Wars, Black Mirror, and Triangle of Sadness.

Which sounds suspiciously like a proper career.

The truth is, I've always been less interested in creating illusions than in uncovering whatever lies beneath them.

Photography became part of that search. So did filmmaking. A camera, at its best, is a curious instrument. Point it at the world long enough and it begins revealing things that weren't obvious when you arrived. Sometimes it shows you other people. Sometimes it shows you yourself.

These days I divide my time between directing, photography, and the occasional return to the world of visual effects. My work is drawn toward characters, hidden stories, beautiful contradictions, and those strange moments where reality feels slightly larger than our explanations for it.

I've never been particularly interested in perfection. I'm interested in presence. In the crack where the light gets in. In the feeling that there is something meaningful hiding inside ordinary moments if we're paying enough attention.

Friends might call me a filmmaker. Photographers would probably claim me as one of their own. Tour guests occasionally mistake me for a philosopher. The truth is I'm not entirely sure what the correct label is.

I suspect I've spent my life following the same thread through different forms.

The old mystics spoke of signs, the psychologists spoke of symbols, and storytellers called it meaning.

Whatever it is, I'm still following it.

With a camera in one hand and a healthy disregard for sensible life choices in the other.