For me, a self-portrait is never just a photograph. It’s a moment of pausing, turning inward, and asking myself: who am I today? what part of me wants to be seen? Sometimes it feels tender, occasionally bold, and sometimes uncomfortable—but it’s always honest.
When I step in front of the lens, I’m not chasing perfection. I’m holding space for presence, vulnerability, and self-acceptance. It’s a ritual, a way of mapping the inner world through image.
Portraits Through History
Portraiture has always fascinated me. In the past, only kings, queens, and the wealthy could afford to be painted. When photography arrived in the 19th century, it gave everyday people the chance to preserve their presence. Still, there was fear around it—some believed the camera might “steal their soul.” I find that fear so telling—it shows how instinctively people understood the power of the image.
A portrait is never just about appearance. It’s about memory, identity, and the feeling of being seen.
Every time I take my own portrait, I am asking myself- Am I ready to be seen?
The Self as Expression
So many artists—painters, photographers, performers—have turned the camera on themselves as a way of saying, This is me. Think of Franseca Woodman with her ghostly self-portraits, announcing her inability to truly be in this world. A photographer whose raw, ghost-like self-portraits spoke to a sense of not belonging, ever transforming and shifting in time and space. These works remind me that self-portraiture can be both deeply personal and boldly political: a mirror, a declaration, sometimes even an act of resistance.
Photography as Self-Discovery
I’ve been inspired by approaches to self-portraiture that explore photography as a path to mindfulness and self-knowledge. By slowing down, noticing, letting go of judgement—something is being discovered and exposed – a simple, honest truth.
For me, photography is less about “capturing” and more about witnessing. It’s about paying attention to what is present, both in ourselves and in the person in front of the lens.
Holding Space Through the Lens
Over the years, I’ve worked with women entrepreneurs, artists, healers, and community leaders. In these sessions, the camera has often become a mirror of resilience, creativity, and confidence. With men, I’ve seen how photography can open unexpected doors to vulnerability and self-expression.
What I love most is that moment when, after all voices of judgment turn quiet, someone sees their portrait and says: Ah yes—that feels like me.
That recognition, that deep acceptance, is the real gift.
This gift that I am giving myself with every self-portrait while I take the journey of aging and ever changing.
