A Way of Seeing
I was born in Barbados and moved to America when I was fourteen. Brooklyn raised me. It is where I was taught how to be a man, where experience taught me what that meant, and where I found my culture, my closest friends, and my wife.
Moving to America taught me to observe. I watched everything: how people spoke, dressed, moved, joked, argued, and treated one another. Brooklyn sounded like soca and reggae, music blasting from cars, familiar accents, laughter, and arguments. By my early twenties, it had become my happy place.
In 2015, I worked in technology in Midtown, and home was 33 stops away in Gravesend. When I left work and went directly to the crowded F train, I carried the entire workday with me. By the time I reached home, all that stress and restless energy was still there.
I bought a Sony NEX-5T because it was small, compact, and affordable. I wasn’t sure photography would stay with me. I only knew that my routine wasn’t working and I had to try something.
Three or four evenings a week, I walked before getting on the train. I wandered through Central Park, along Fifth or Madison Avenue, across town, or wherever my attention took me. I photographed people working, eating, talking, drinking, smoking, and rushing home. There was no set destination. Being outside with the camera was the point.
Those walks gave me a rush, but they also helped me slow down, rebalance, and return home more peacefully. I felt empowered and included. I felt less like a rat in a race and more like a human being sharing in the human experience.

Perspective

That remains the reason I pick up my camera. My ability to capture what I see has matured, but the purpose has stayed the same: to observe life with connection rather than judgment.
Perspective is a gift. It allows me to step outside my immediate feelings and biases and see from another angle. It reminds me that another side, another feeling, another thought, and another way are always possible.
The perspective behind each photograph is my own, but the image becomes a portal. Viewers can enter the captured moment with their own memories and experiences. They can feel, wonder, dream, yearn, and extend their own perspective.
I have also learned the value of simply documenting life as it is. Photographs made only a few years ago already show a different city: a changing downtown skyline, pizza shops I once frequented, and bars where I spent time that are no longer there. Looking back brings gratitude. I am happy I was present and able to preserve those moments.
Life moves quickly. Photography gives me a way to notice it while it is here.