The Privilege of Capturing You
I spend a lot of time thinking about the “why” of boudoir photography. Not in a introspective, existential crisis kind of way, but in a “let’s make sure I’m not a creep” kind of way. The world of photography is full of artists, sure. But it’s also full of creeps. And let’s be honest, sometimes the line gets blurry. I like to think I land firmly on the artist side of things. I work hard to keep it that way.
I’ve been making things since I was nine. Photos, drawings, stories. Whatever let me bend the world into something I found interesting. There’s a high to it, the kind of rush that makes people climb mountains or chase tornadoes. The joy of creation, of bringing something new into existence, is the best feeling I know. And every time someone reaches out about a boudoir shoot, I get to feel that again.
I get to. Not “have to.” That’s important. “Have to” is what you say about going to the DMV. “Get to” means this is a privilege. It means I get to collaborate with you, turn you into something worthy of a gallery wall. It’s a little like flirting, honestly. Listening to what makes you feel beautiful, what makes you feel seen, what makes you feel like you.
Some photographers do the same shoot over and over. Same studio, same lights, same poses. That’s fine. It works for them. But I can’t do that. It’s why I don’t have a studio. If I had one, I’d just be shoving you into my world instead of building something that fits you. I see it differently. Like the artists of the past, I think of myself as being commissioned to create something that reflects you.
You are the raw material. The marble, the clay, the paint. Without you, there’s no art. That’s why I care so much. Because this isn’t just photography. It’s storytelling. And the story I want to tell is yours.
The story I’m telling in these images is Lina’s. Over weeks of planning, I got to know her well. The way she thinks, the way she prepares. And she was the best kind of collaborator: the kind who shows up ready. Before the shoot, we swapped Pinterest boards, dissected outfit choices, and by the time the day arrived, she brought twice as many looks as we could possibly shoot. I tried anyway. Would’ve been a crime not to.
I even managed to set up a little studio on location, a small touch that made the shoot feel even more like an event. But the best thing about Lina? She let go. She gave in to the process, trusted the moment, and let herself be seen. She was open, she was present, and she was entirely herself. I love that.
But here’s the thing, photos and videos never tell the full story. They don’t capture the in-between moments: the laughter, the missteps, the quiet seconds where something real and genuine happens. And sure, we can’t ignore the obvious: Lina’s got a body that makes you do a double take. Years of cheer, dance, and gymnastics left her with a core that could probably break bricks. I wasn’t expecting it, not because I didn’t think she could be, but because it wasn’t the point. And if anyone’s ready to jump in with, “That’s not a real woman” I’ll stop you right there. What makes someone a real woman? Because I’ve met plenty with her same strength, same grace, same fire. Lina is Lina. That's all she needs to be. And I’m damn lucky I got to capture that.
I can't wait to capture you.
