Darkroom days
Most of my highschool senior years were spent in the darkroom. Lost in the dark shadows. Intoxicated by the photo chemicals. Anticipating what would present itself on the contact sheet.
Photography was my way of seeing the world. Before I wrote, I captured.
Photography as an unexpected afterthought. I picked up the vintage cameras we had at home and just to play. One was my father’s, the other my grandfather’s. Something clicked. Once I was introduced to the darkroom I couldn’t get enough.
I never really stopped shooting. Even though my vintage Olympus has been replaced by an iphone, I still capture moments in time.
To say I'm not a sports person is an understatement. But through photography I fell in love with the action shot. First it was my brother’s rugby games in highschool. In undergrad, it was my best friends' love affair with basketball that ended with me laying across the court, under the hoop, holding my breath for the perfect shot. One summer I was hired as the official photographer at a private sports camp, where I spent the summer hanging off the boat catching the wakeboarders mid-flight.
I loved the intensity of the moment. The beauty of athleticism. That priceless fleeting shot that couldn't be recreated.
Most of these images, since they are before our digital catalogs, are lost in some archive. Some I found and leave here, as mementos of these moments in time.
i am ayla
born in the east, raised in the west
daughter of two academics, both artists
masters in human rights, committed to social justice
love affair with travel, art, and food
speaks four languages, laughs in all