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I remember it like yesterday. It was a beautiful summer day in 1972 when I first stepped foot on the sun-kissed beaches of California. I was a young woman at the time, fresh out of college and looking to spread my wings and explore new horizons. The warm sand between my toes, the cool ocean breeze in my hair, and the endless blue sky above me - it all felt so liberating.
As I settled into my new life in California, I began to notice a sense of unease within myself. It was as if I had left something behind when I moved away from home. The quiet days turned into long nights filled with self-doubt and uncertainty. But one day, while wandering through the streets of Los Angeles, I stumbled upon an old, worn-out camera tucked away in a dusty corner of a thrift store.
The camera's worn lens caught my eye as if to whisper stories from the past - stories of people who had once held it close, capturing moments they never wanted to forget. The more I gazed at the camera, the more I felt an inexplicable connection forming between us. It was as if the camera was calling out to me, inviting me to be a part of its story. With that, my love affair with photography began, and the rest, as they say, is history. And here we are today - I'm sitting in front of my computer screen, editing photos for our lovely client who requested this beautiful high detailed
