There were days that felt so transcendent. Everything seemed to have a soft glow, the sun warmed what was in front of me, and I had to catch my breath in floods of beauty. I needed something, anything, to document this life. So I started a journal. Now, my closet is crammed with boxes of diaries stuffed with sworn-in secrets. I often go back and revisit the past, and cannot believe the things I wrote about and the pictures I drew. We were much smarter than we remember ourselves.

As a little girl, nine years old, my father who dubbed me “Whitney Darling” passed away. A moment was stolen from me. My tiny hands couldn’t grasp it all. The world seemed to thieve me from what I thought I could hold onto forever. And ever since, I’ve been earnestly trying to immortalize what I now am certain will one day be yesterday. All these pretty things that tell our story need to be captured.

So here I am– in my last year of college, getting my BA in Literature. Still hopelessly fixated on the art of storytelling. The word imagery that allows us to relate to one another is absolutely incredible to me. The words I say, and what they make you imagine- I can think of few things more interesting. However, the things I can tell you about a time are cheapened by my memory. The imperative details we may forget can be remembered if we take time to photograph this surpassing beauty.

And this is why I have invested my time and passion into photojournalism. I’m dedicated to the whole story, the true one, the one that we will soon revisit in the sharing of our narrative with our loved ones.

This isn’t a fad- a contemporary personal passion. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a rush of wonder dancing through my veins. I’m bewildered by time, the temporary future that quickly dissipates into a forever past. I often wonder of the birth and then passing of materialism. In uncontainable ecstasy I ponder where all this beauty comes from. These earthly glimpses of glamour are promised to be but a fraction of a Kingdom coming. All the glory belongs to God, our Father who is in Heaven. The gift of a magnificent creation is inseparable from a magnificent creator- and in Him, the gift of what’s truly eternal- a timeless aesthetic- the power in knowing Jesus Christ.

Email me: whitneydarling@me.com