"I don't really put myself into a category...I would just say I am...what I am."
"Mental health...I think everyone struggles with stuff."
"I feel like people could be doing so much more and everyone is just wasting talent."
"I know what they're like growing up...public housing, public assistance was my life growing up."
"I was thinking about the past and not going backwards."
"It's the look that my children gave me that went to my soul...I never wanted to see that look."
"Growing up...One of the most difficult things was to ask for me."
"God can take two broken people and put them together and make the most beautiful mosaic out of life."
Overview
Selected Interview—Interviews Available Fridays @1pm here: SUAT: A Moment With You Interviews
SUAT: A Moment With You
This series examines portraiture as a space suspended between presence and preservation—where a person sits in front of the camera, fully alive, yet already becoming memory. In SUAT: A Moment With You, the act of photographing and filming is not just documentation; it is a negotiation with time. What is captured is real, but the moment itself is already passing.
Rendered with restraint and clarity, each subject is presented with an intentional stillness. The suit becomes a kind of uniform—structured, composed, resistant to chaos. It suggests permanence, control, and identity, even as the person inside it carries something far less fixed. In contrast, the filmed conversations introduce movement, fracture, and vulnerability. The voice, the pause, the shift in expression—these are the elements that resist being held in place.
I am less interested in performance than in tension—the space between who someone is and what remains once the moment is over. A portrait can feel definitive, but it is only ever partial. A story can feel complete, but it is always unfolding. Together, the images and interviews expose that contradiction: what appears resolved is not; what feels stable is still in motion.
Light becomes a collaborator in the same way it does in my photographic work—shaping the subject while revealing the limits of what can be seen. It isolates, defines, and, at times, conceals. In both the portraits and the films, it draws attention to the surface while hinting at something just beyond it. The result is not an attempt to fully understand a person, but to sit with what cannot be fully known.
These works are about memory as much as presence. Each subject offers a fragment of their life—an experience, a belief, a moment of reckoning. Once shared, it becomes fixed in a new way, no longer just theirs, but part of a collective archive. Like any preserved object, it carries meaning differently over time. What is said today may be heard differently tomorrow.
This series explores the desire to hold onto something real in the face of its impermanence. A photograph, a filmed conversation—these are attempts to stabilize what cannot be kept. And yet, within that effort, something honest emerges. Not permanence, but trace. Not possession, but witness.