Ties That Hold

This isn’t a formal body of work. There’s no shoot schedule, no defined arc, no brief. Just a loose constellation of people I love, places I’ve returned to, and the moments that have stayed with me.

These photographs were taken over the course of more than a decade, each one a small record of friendship and familiarity. Most were made in the Philippines, where I grew up and where many of my closest relationships still live. Some were captured on film, while others were recorded digitally. Most are quiet, personal, and instinctive. A gesture, a look, a laugh held just long enough to be noticed.

What connects these images isn’t just location, but the feeling that lives in them: a sense of ease, of care, of people letting their guards down. That warmth you only get when you’re surrounded by those who’ve known you a long time. It’s a kind of shorthand, an unspoken trust. A shared history that doesn’t need explaining.

When I photograph my friends and family, I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’m just paying attention. There’s something freeing about shooting in this way—unfiltered, unhurried, open to whatever unfolds. The photographs still carry intention, but it’s the kind that lives in the background. They’re led by curiosity rather than control.

This is what my photography looks like when it isn’t trying to sell something. It’s personal, yes—but also generous. These aren’t just pictures of my people. They’re invitations to notice something of your own. To recognise the look someone gives you when you know each other well. To feel the joy of being understood. To remember what it’s like to feel at home in someone else’s presence.