Most families have someone who keeps the photos.
Memory Preservationist: safeguards personal, historical, or cultural narratives, ensuring they are not lost to time. They use tools like digital archiving, oral history recordings, and physical preservation to protect documents, photographs, and personal stories.
I’m Amanda. I live in Oregon, and I love taking photos for people who love the odd corners of their story and never want to forget it.
Weddings, families, all of it.
When I realized it mattered
The first time I remember really noticing the importance of photography, I was in elementary school.
My aunt made a slideshow from a bunch of old family photos and played it for everyone on Christmas.
I vividly remember everyone being completely captivated, laughing, and sharing memories.
“That’s not what happened.”
“Yes, it is.”
Half of it was probably wrong. But it didn’t matter!
The photos gave everyone something to hold on to. They kept the conversation going and the stories alive.
I remember thinking how strange it was that something that was already over could still feel so present.
Matriarchal inspiration
Growing up, I spent a lot of time with my grandmas.
My Grandma Nancy could tell you everything about our family.
Who married whom, who moved where, and who’s buried in which cemetery.
My Grandma Barbara made things. Constantly.
She’d come home with a pile of random stuff and turn it into something better.
She painted, drew, gardened, made jewelry, played instruments, and let me try it all.
They were actually best friends and went to thrift stores and garage sales together all the time.
They weren’t necessarily trying to be inspirational, but they were.
They paid attention to what was in front of them, and it taught me to do the same.
Being around them made me curious.
About a lot of things.
About where things come from, why some things are kept, and others aren’t.
When it started
My first go-round with a camera was me swiping my dad’s early digital camera and taking photos of my dog and sepia tone selfies with my friends.
When I graduated from high school, my family bought me my own camera as a graduation gift.
I slowly started photographing friends and families for free, learning and finding a style.
By 2011, word of mouth had turned it into a business.
I didn’t have a plan.
I just kept showing up.
Cruise Control
At some point, I got really good at doing it the “right” way.
Pinterest-perfect poses and manufactured stories.
I was creating the same thing for everyone, and it had no depth.
It looked pretty but felt empty.
I was bored out of my mind.
Starting Over
It took a really heavy period of burnout during the pandemic to really find my place again.
I started digging back into my own family’s archives, and I realized the photos that mattered most showed cluttered rooms, laugh lines, and crooked horizons.
That realization brought me back to observation and play.
I started letting moments play out, embracing imperfections, and integrating old-school mediums alongside digital.
The cedar chest
One of my pandemic projects was sorting through all of the old family photos in my mom’s cedar chest. There were tons of albums from before they were married, baby pictures, family vacations, etc. Every photo, every “pose” was all candid. My parents were the same age I am now, and seeing the photos they intentionally chose to take changed my perspective on photography.
I loved seeing how people lived, what they paid attention to, and wondering what compelled them to take a picture in that exact moment.
That shifted everything for me.
Not in a big dramatic way.
It was simple, actually. I just stopped trying to make things look better and started paying attention to what was already there.
That’s how I work now.
I’m not trying to turn your life into something it’s not.
Me, right now
I like slow mornings, gardening, sunshine, estate sales, and a good sweet treat.
My husband Dwaine and I spend a lot of time watching corny ’90s movies, riding motorcycles to cool places, and hanging out with our family. We like to think we’ve secured the title of Cool Aunt & Uncle, but that hasn’t been officially confirmed.
We have two cats, two dogs, and too many classic cars.
Nostalgia brings me a lot of joy, and photography feels like a legacy I’m building that people can come back to and revisit over time.
If that hits home (or at least makes you nod in agreement), we’re probably a damn good fit.
