My godfather, who carried me in his arms on the day of my baptism, was a photographer. It was sorting through his effects many years later with my grandfather that I discovered the negatives of the pictures he’d taken of me when I was a child. The preserved moment was like crystal and I was amazed to rediscover the laughing little blonde curly-haired girl I had been.
The emotion of finding these negatives helped me understand why I too had become a photographer. I wanted to give people images they could cherish on cold winter evenings and that their children could look at and know that they were born in great happiness.