Modesto, CA 1996 I pick up my mom’s camera, following in her footsteps. Our house was filled with the photos she took, family, friends, parties, motorcycle races and a complete anthology of my life up until that point. Took my camera to skate spots, BBQ’s, underground hip hop shows, abandoned buildings and train yards. Took it to SF for 9 years, found my way, art school, darkrooms, group shows, shot every neighborhood, hurried goodbye, joyful exhale, cracked smile, crack of dawn that I could. Took it to New York for 9 years, failed forward, loft parties, studio visits, clandestino last call, high-rise lobbies I didn’t belong in, portfolio review portfolio review “we’ll keep you in mind.” Right into Oprah’s arms at one point (true story). First billboard, first real paycheck, I have an agent now, extra pages in my passport, all access credentials, Robert Fucking De Niro, Wo Hop at 3am. Now back out west, living with my dream girl, our son, and dog Blue in Los Angeles. Another life surrounded by photos, ones I take. Maybe a little less dirt bikes, but a boy like the one my mom had. He’s impressed by all the memories of the years behind. I’m still behind the camera looking at what’s ahead.