Having lost my brother, my hero, at the age of 17, I thought the world I lived in was cruel. Fear set in. I set my camera down and walked away from my childhood dreams. A few years ago I was rifling through old photos, letters and newspaper clippings of my brother's life. He clearly had passion, the very thing I had been lacking. When I was finally willing to acknowledge my grief without judgment I began to study ancient teachings brought to life by some of our greatest writers. My curiosity could not be quenched and the obsession began. I posed some of my most difficult questions about life and the hereafter.
Armed with little experience other than a degree in Religious Studies I took on the task of writing. My characters quickly came to life and even haunted me in my dreams. I had to know what happened next. I was surprised the story unfolded into three books. Not only that; I started taking pictures again. This time through a new filter, a beautiful perception of the world around me.