I didn’t come into this with a map. No one around me was pointing toward photography or filmmaking as a real path, let alone a sustainable one. But I picked up a camera, and somewhere in that process, I found something that felt like truth. Not just images, but perspective. Not just work, but voice.

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In the beginning, it was quiet. Learning, observing, figuring out how to move in rooms I wasn’t always invited into. As a Black creative in a space that still doesn’t reflect enough of us behind the lens, especially in commercial production, I understood early that presence had to be earned differently. So I stayed consistent. I refined my eye. I let the work speak before I ever had to. And over time, what started as access turned into trust, and trust turned into opportunity.

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Seventeen years later, that foundation has grown into something much bigger. I built DHPixels from the ground up into a Chicago-based production company working across commercial, branded, and documentary storytelling. Along the way, I expanded into CommercialPhotoVideo.com, creating a system that allows me to scale while still staying close to the craft. From national campaigns to local institutions, from restaurants and architecture to documentary work rooted in culture, I’ve worked across industries, but the throughline has always been the same, intentional storytelling with a cinematic edge.

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My work has taken me into kitchens, construction sites, medical offices, art studios, and communities that deserve to be seen with care and accuracy. I’ve had the chance to work with thousands of restaurants since 2015, shaping how they present themselves to the world. I’ve built campaigns from the ground up, directed commercial productions, and created visual systems for brands that need consistency and identity, not just content.

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At the same time, some of the most important work I’ve done lives outside of traditional commercial spaces. I recently completed a documentary centered around the large-scale installation by Edra Soto and Dan Sullivan at the University of Illinois Chicago, a piece that explores craftsmanship, cultural memory, and the physical weight of storytelling through material. That project wasn’t just about documenting art, it was about honoring process, honoring scale, and capturing something that will outlive all of us.

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Right now, I’m developing another film rooted in Chicago’s community gardens, a project that leans into the quieter, deeper stories of resilience, ownership, and legacy within the city. These are the kinds of stories that don’t always get funding, don’t always get attention, but they matter. And I’ve made it a point to keep space for that kind of work, no matter how much the commercial side grows.

Because at this stage, it’s not just about creating beautiful images. It’s about impact. It’s about opening doors for the next generation of creatives who don’t see themselves reflected in this industry yet. It’s about building something that extends beyond me.

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I remember what it felt like to be on the outside, trying to figure out how to get in. That perspective never left. It shaped how I work, how I lead, and how I create.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this, the stories that matter most are rarely the ones being handed a spotlight. They’re the ones waiting for someone to recognize their weight and have the discipline to tell them right.