STOKES

Personal Note

It's more than pictures.

Narcolepsy led me to photography.

Undiagnosed until after college, I didn’t understand why my mind and body felt misaligned—why memories blurred or disappeared, why time slipped through my hands. I lost hours and days I knew I had lived.

After my first year of college, desperate to hold onto time, I had no solution. But my mother did. In 2016, she gave me a Nikon D3200 kit, though in truth, she gave me something far greater: the ability to pause time.

Photography felt like waking up. As I learned to focus—both literally and figuratively—pieces of me fit back together. Choosing to see the good, marveling at fleeting moments, and holding a fraction of a second in my hands became second nature.

Now, a decade later, it is the honor of my life to preserve your moments as they become your memories. Not just the milestones, but the smallest glances, the fleeting gestures—the “blink and you’ll miss it” instances that make up a life.

Because in the end, is there any greater luxury than being known and loved? Than savoring time, surrounded by your favorite people, in your favorite places?

I can’t think of a single thing. So let’s celebrate in style.

 x —
    stokes

Narcolepsy led me to photography.

For years, time slipped through my hands—memories blurred, moments disappeared. I wanted to hold onto time, but I had no solution. My mother did. In 2016, she gave me a camera, though in truth, she gave me something far greater: the ability to pause time.

Photography felt like waking up. As I learned to focus—both literally and figuratively—I found clarity, presence, and the power of fleeting moments.

Now, a decade later, it’s my honor to preserve yours—not just the milestones, but the smallest glances, the fleeting gestures, the quiet moments where you are most known and loved.

Because in the end, is there any greater luxury than that?