My son was a die-hard reggae fanatic ... turned Rasta at the age of 14. As a doting mom, and respecting his path, I began to take him to Jamaica several times a year. What I didn’t expect was that many years later, after a healthcare issue, I would go back with a point-and-shoot camera and find myself discovering photography.
I hired a driver, grabbed the camera, stopped the car and found myself in people’s yards, talking to strangers down in the river washing clothes, people becoming new friends everywhere. I had found what set my soul on fire.
In the beginning I actually thought I HAD to be in Jamaica to shoot ... it was a birthplace for me ... of visual literacy. So while I have a category for my love and passion for the West Indies, I have a special place for my beginning: Jamaica