HELLO!

I am a portrait and documentary photographer who recently moved with my daughter and husband from San Francisco to Mount Desert Island, Maine.

I grew up in Indiana and my father sometimes read his poetry aloud. If I closed my eyes, the words created images that floated in my mind and I shivered.

I remember the very first time I shivered when taking a photo. My grandma Bertha was telling me about her chickens, and her toes were interlocked like a clasped hand. I could see where she’d lost her toenail from an axe mishap as a child. I took photos of her feet, and I shivered. Making photographs is deeply personal process for me; it causes me to slow down and reflect as the world unfurls around me.

I owe much of my photographic life to the work of those who have come before me and showed me that no story is too small to be seen. I am grateful for Mountain Workshop and The Missouri Photo Workshop for pushing me to develop documentary stories with more thought and confidence.

I have worked in many different jobs over the years and every one of them has influenced the work I do today: I had a paper route, I mowed lawns. I sold PVC piping and made keys at the local hardware store. I worked in a library. I worked at the university post office. I peeled carrots in the cafeteria in the mornings before classes. I babysat, I waited tables. I was a dishwasher. I taught French in Mississippi through Teach for America. I was an assistant-editor in a publishing company. I taught swim classes. I answered phones for a mail order party favor company. I was a nanny. i managed animators creating a feature-length animation (think Bugs). I worked with a former National Geographic photographer on a global project involving data visualization and human connection. I oversaw a million dollar grant and developed content for engineering educators in Silicon Valley. I tutored students in creative writing.

I am grateful for these opportunities, as they have shaped how I see and how I move in this world.

I am interested in the fibers connecting self to family and other forms of belonging—but also those that may reveal a tension between how we see ourselves and how we feel defined. As humans, we make sense of our world through storytelling. I am curious about the narratives that confine us, the narratives that connect us, and those we create to set us free.

I am available for editorial, commercial and personal commissions, and collaborations.

Also, send me your best palindromes.

— Katherine