Sylvie's story (or a little bit anyway)

As I look through my lens today, I carry with me a lifelong gratitude for the winding path that brought me to photography. The earliest spark came from the tiny treasures my grandmother collected for me — small Chocolat Poulain pictures that felt like windows into other worlds. Later, my schoolteacher deepened that early fascination, gifting picture cards that stirred the same quiet joy — simple images that taught me to pay attention to the world.

The first true wonder of photography revealed itself in our bathroom-turned-darkroom, where I watched in awe as my father coaxed images to life from sheets of black-and-white film. At fifteen, I took my first dedicated photography class, learning to master exposure, ISO, and shutter speed — the technical language that allowed me to translate what I saw in my mind into images.

In my early twenties, I spent four years in Ireland, wandering its rugged landscapes and charming towns with friends, always behind the camera, capturing moments that would become lasting memories for all of us. Though my friends praised my photographs, I remained my own harshest critic, always striving for images that captured not just moments, but the feeling and beauty within them. Marriage and raising four children brought new joys and responsibilities, yet a camera was never far from my side, quietly documenting the growth and laughter of our family.

In 2015, my husband gifted me a camera that opened new possibilities, and over the years, each upgrade has allowed me to pursue my vision more fully — from an entry-level DSLR to the R5 and R6 mirrorless cameras, accompanied by lenses that help bring every detail to life. Today, I feel profoundly grateful for the material I have before me, the places I can explore, and the opportunity to share the beauty I witness with others through my photography.