Hi! I’m Rob.
Photographer. Neurodivergent. Twenty-five year partner to a beautiful soul. Parent to a kiddo almost as tall as me. Dog dad of two. I live for my partner’s laughter and my kiddo’s hugs; have a deep reverence for the ephemeral; desperately miss living in Hong Kong; and could easily make a habit of eating more Korean rice cake than is healthy for me. I document ways of being, becoming, and belonging with an understanding that there’s no one way. That there’s, in fact, many. And that difference is delicious. My work is one of service. It’s about presence, acceptance, and bearing witness to the everyday lives of ordinary folk, and all their delightful quirks.
My Story
This season of my life begins with a smile. Her smile. Karissa’s. I was in my mid-twenties when I walked into her dorm room in Missoula, Montana. I remember it was crowded with friends of hers. But the only actual memory I have of that moment is her smile. Directed towards me. You know the type of smile: the type that lights up a room and makes everything else dimmer as a result. Karissa and I became close friends in a short period of time. Best friends, actually. And I fell madly in love with her. We married soon after and subsequently moved to St. Louis, Missouri where I worked my first job with kids at a children’s shelter and she pursued her masters in social work. Two years later, we moved to Portland, Oregon.
Karissa gave birth to our kiddo in 2008, at which time I learned something of love that I hadn’t known prior to his birth: a parent’s love expands the heart to an unimaginable degree. Life has been a bit of a blur since then. We moved to Seoul where I taught English to elementary students, then to Hong Kong. Karissa was the primary caregiver for Isaac during his early years, but we swapped roles once we returned to the States. She took a job as a medical social worker in Washington and I became the stay-at-home parent and homeschool teacher.
Isaac is quickly approaching adulthood now, and I’m meeting this moment with a new aspiration: to be a documentary family photographer. Documentary because I deeply appreciate how an honest moment organically unfolds in the environment without me meddling in its development. And because the everyday is worthy of art. But also because traditional posed family photos fail to reflect what it feels like to be a partner and a parent. To be all over the emotional map. To be excited. In love. Full of joy. Frustrated. Exhausted. Overwhelmed. Vulnerable. Nostalgic. And to be any combination of these over the course of a singular day. I want to feel a moment spent with loved ones when I look at family photos. I want to remember the expressions that reveal my kiddo’s personality, and my partner’s. I want to remember who we were and are. So yeah, this is me. In a nutshell. This is where I’m at and I hope that this season in my life can benefit others in a meaningful way.
