Person standing in snow with arms outstretched, wearing a denim jacket, camouflage pants, beanie, and scarf, in a winter forest setting.

A romance born out of being handed a Polaroid instant camera by my grandfather when I was around ten. I was drawn to how a fleeting moment could become a connection — to another time, a loved one, or a feeling that didn’t have words.

I grew up feeling like my inner world was hard to translate. My mind moved quickly — full of images, colors, details, and emotions — constantly noticing things that passed by too fast. Photography became a way to make sense of that. A way to hold what I was seeing, feeling, and remembering, and offer it outward as a way to connect.

Over time, that desire to connect softened into something quieter. Film showed me that I didn’t need to direct, perform, or explain myself in order to share what I was seeing. It gave me permission to observe gently and trust that what mattered would reveal itself.

And I’ve been following that instinct ever since.

Hi, I’m Sonny and Film was my first love.

Your moment of love, through my eyes, held on film.

I began shooting 35mm regularly in 2016, while repairing and selling vintage film cameras through my vintage business — but film itself had already been moving with me for years, showing up at festivals, vacations, and parties, and eventually into community pop-up markets and my work selling vintage clothing. Photographing people, garments, and real environments taught me how much shifts when moments aren’t directed, and how much more honest they feel when left alone.

Through a contemplative photography course in college and a few long solo road trips with a film camera, I learned that the seemingly mundane is often where the most insight lives — conversations tucked away in the smoking section, quiet pauses between peak moments, small décor details planned thoughtfully but unnoticed by most guests. Those unassuming moments can hold just as much meaning as the ones we’re told are important. I’m drawn to moments and details that don’t ask for attention; photographing them feels like a quiet reward.

I’m not someone who naturally steps in to lead or heavily direct moments, and that’s an intentional choice rather than a limitation. I don’t believe connection needs to be orchestrated in order to create images that evoke emotion. I show up quietly, pay attention, and let things happen as they are. I feel most confident when I’m blending into the scene, moving with the energy of a space, and capturing moments as they arise.

My work has been shaped by years spent inside meaningful gatherings and shared moments. More recently, working as a wedding coordinator gave me a closer view of how beautifully these spaces and emotions hold on film. Bringing my camera into a few weddings opened a new path — one that allows me to photograph love with the same quiet attention and intention that’s always guided my work.

In Practice