​​My love of film photography began in the high school darkroom. In my senior year Photo II class one of our assignments was to take self-portraits, and the exercise unexpectedly resonated with me.  My practice of self-portraiture remained dormant until right before the pandemic in 2020.  I was in the process of easing my way back in, but once the pandemic hit, my creativity all but shut down completely.

By the end of 2020 I set up a studio in my basement to take self-portraits, and I took them compulsively. The year 2021 was met with me slowly coming to terms with the dysfunction of my marriage and not-coincidentally a slew of self-portraits.  I thought I was trying to find my voice amidst the tumult. 

But one day I landed myself in a therapist’s office processing some trauma that had surfaced, leaving my body in a constant state of shaking and my whole being perpetually yelling that I was unsafe. In an effort to curb the effects of PTSD, she helped me through a visualization exercise.  I was to picture myself. At first I could only see black, but eventually a self-portrait I had taken a few months back came to mind. This version of Amy was turned away from the camera, arms back as if ready for flight. I eventually coaxed her to turn toward me and by the end of the exercise, I told this version of Amy that I was finally seeing her and I promised to never stop seeing her.  When I opened my eyes,  I realized it was far more dire than needing to find my voice: I was lost and desperate to see myself. 

My love of self-portraits has only expanded as I discovered it’s really one of my favorite ways to externally process. I extol the therapeutic act of showing up, letting go, and allowing what’s going on inside to pour out onto the frame. Only when we are vulnerable with ourselves can we begin to be vulnerable and deeply connect with others.

Below you will find just a sampling of some of my most meaningful images. All of them are created on film simply because that’s the medium with which I have the deepest connection. I hope they meet you where you’re at, because I truly believe everything is about everything, and the threads of the human experience bind us in the tapestry of existence.  The knotted, seemingly nonsensical underbelly of weft-faced weaving might be all we can focus on sometimes, but when we’re able to rise above it, we see the true beauty being created.