When I was younger, I thought my grandma was crazy. Not in a bad way—just in the way kids think grown-ups have some playbook they aren’t telling them about. One of which was her passion for taking pictures. Through all of her 82 years, she's acquired tens of thousands of photos. Lined up on the shelf in the family room, sit an endless number of leather and canvas albums waiting to be flipped through.

She and her little silver film camera were practically attached at the hip. Anytime she could, she'd snap a photo, and I’d hear the click and wshhhhp of the shot. You’d think, as a little girl who loved the stage, I’d enjoy the attention—but, ironically, I hated being in the pictures. I dodged her lens like it was a spotlight I hadn’t asked for. Looking back, maybe I just didn’t know how to be seen yet.

That changed in middle school when I got my first cell phone for Hanukkah. Suddenly, I was the one behind the camera. I took photos of everything—from school musicals to football games—filling my phone with tiny moments that felt too important to forget. That little screen taught me what my grandma had known all along: capturing memories is a gift. But more than that, it taught me the value of a story—what happens in a single glance, a shared laugh, a fleeting second.

As I grew into acting, I realized what I truly love isn’t just documenting moments—it’s living them. Acting lets me step into stories, embody characters, and bring emotional truth to the surface. Through Meisner and Atlantic Acting School training at NYU Tisch I was able find even more magic in the in-between seconds, the subtleties that make us human. Now I love being in front of the camera, not because I want to be seen, but because I want to reveal something real.

So yes, my camera roll has 16,457 photos. And yes, my grandma taught me well. But it’s the stories behind those images—the emotions, the unspoken truths—that I chase as an actor every single day.