Christmas, 1966, and my mother gave me a camera, you know, just a cheap plastic Holga. I was hooked. I photographed anything that moved, as well as some things that didn't.

In high school, I had access to a darkroom. I often missed English class because I was too engrossed in making prints to notice the time.
I didn't shoot digital until the year 2008. Now the digital darkroom is just a mere extension of my Wet Darkroom days, only now it costs far less money. I do, however, miss the smell of Bromide.