Havana Within: Where My Documentary Journey Began
This year marks my second anniversary as a member of the Professional Photographers of Canada. It also marks a moment I never quite imagined at the beginning of my photography journey: becoming an Accredited Documentary Photographer.
The images you see here are part of Havana Within, the documentary series that was recently accepted for accreditation. What feels especially meaningful is that these photographs were made at the very beginning - before I had confidence, before I understood the language of photography, and long before I knew where this path might lead.
At the time, I wasn’t thinking about accreditation or recognition. I was simply paying attention.
Learning to observe
Havana asked me to slow down. To watch gestures. To notice how people move through space, how they work, wait, rest, and connect - often in quiet, unremarkable moments that might be missed if you’re rushing to “get the shot.”
I didn’t direct or intervene. I learned to wait. To let moments unfold on their own terms.
Those early days behind the camera taught me something fundamental: documentary photography isn’t about capturing spectacle. It’s about presence, respect, and patience. About understanding when not to take a photograph just as much as when to raise the camera. Havana Within
Havana Within explores gestures, labor, reflection, and the coexistence of people, animals, and art throughout the city’s textured streets and interiors. What drew me wasn’t the iconic image of Havana, but the everyday - the in-between moments that quietly shape a place and give it rhythm.
Looking back at these photographs now, I can see how much of my photographic voice was already forming, even when I didn’t yet have the words for it. The way I gravitate toward human presence. The way I frame through doors and windows. The way I allow stillness to exist in an image.
Accreditation as confirmation, not arrival
Becoming accredited doesn’t feel like a finish line. It feels more like a quiet confirmation - a reminder that the way I was learning to see from the beginning had value.
The accreditation process requires a cohesive body of work. Ten images that speak to one another. Ten moments that, together, form a story. Revisiting this series reminded me that growth doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it looks like staying with your instincts long enough for them to mature.
Looking forward
These images will always represent a beginning for me. Not because they are perfect, but because they are honest.
As I continue to grow, photograph, and tell stories, I carry those early lessons with me: observe first, respect the moment, and let the story lead.
I’m grateful for the journey so far - and for the work still ahead.
My documentary roots taught me to see people honestly — to wait for the real moment rather than manufacture one. That same instinct shapes every portrait session I photograph today, whether it's a family in the foothills of Cochrane, a couple at the edge of a frozen lake in Banff National Park, or an individual standing above the valley at Peyto Lake. If you'd like portraits made with that same intention, I'd love to work with you.
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