Every week brings a new app, a new service, a new software promising to generate the perfect fake in seconds. I find myself feeling genuinely anxious about how much of it we are seeing around us, and how fast we are getting used to them.
I have been watching this shift happen, and it worries me. AI-generated images are flooding our feeds, our inboxes, our everyday visual landscape. At first, most of us could spot them – something slightly off about the hands (6 fingers anybody?!), or a light source that makes no sense (ok, this may be something only a photographer would notice, lol).
But that window is closing fast. Have you seen videos of still photographs being animated?! While I can still notice the seams, I know that with a little more time, most people will not be able to.
We are being slowly conditioned to accept the artificial as normal.
And that normalization is exactly what I want to push back against.
When everything around us can be generated, curated, and perfected by a machine, the images that capture a real child running barefoot across real grass become something almost radical. They become proof. Proof that this moment happened. Proof that this family existed, laughed, loved, and lived… together… in real time.

I was editing photos of my own family from last couple of months, just for us, and I noticed something.
I kept capturing a lot of “faceless” images. There is something so artistic, so timeless, so free about a child caught in action, face unseen. These are the images I find myself returning to again and again – as a mother, and as a photographer.

I take them all the time. A child crouched down picking a flower.
Small hands reaching out to grab a favorite toy.
A little one running ahead on a path, their back to the camera, the whole world in front of them.
I have been drawn to these kinds of images for as long as I have been paying attention to photographs, and for a long time it was purely an artistic decision. Look at these 2015-2018-2019 photographs of my two older kiddos (they are 16 and 11 now).





But this summer, I realized there is something more practical happening now. These images do not put children’s faces out into the world – and right now, that matters.
When I think about why I photograph families – especially mothers and their young children – it comes back to this: these seasons pass so fast, and there is no app that can recreate them once they are gone.
I believe real, authentic family photography gives us:
Proof of the ordinary. The everyday moments that feel too small to photograph are the ones you will ache for later. The way your toddler leans into you. The chaos of a morning at home. These are worth documenting.
A bridge across distance. I started photographing my daughter’s life partly so that family far away could feel close to her. Real images – honest, warm, alive – do that in a way no AI-generated picture ever could.
Images your children will grow up with. I want the families I work with to have photographs their children can look at years from now and feel something real. Not a polished fiction, but a true record of love.
Something that holds up over time. Trends in editing and AI aesthetics will date themselves quickly. A genuine moment, captured with care and intention, stays.

I am not against technology. I am a working photographer in a world that runs on it, and I understand the appeal of tools that make things faster or easier.
But I am deeply committed to the idea that documenting our families in a real way – imperfect, fleeting, human – is an act worth protecting.
The families I work with are busy. These are women who are building careers, raising very young children, often far from the extended families. They do not always have the time to slow down and mark the moment. That is exactly why I am here – to do that with them and for them, before this season slips past.
Because it will. It always does.
And when it does, I want them to have images that are true. Images that carry the smell of that afternoon, the sound of that laugh, the feeling of being exactly where they were – together.

If something in this post resonated with you – if you have been thinking about slowing down long enough to capture this season of your family’s life – I would love to hear from you.
I work with families across the San Francisco Bay Area and East Bay, creating relaxed, beautiful sessions that feel true to who you actually are. No stiff poses. No artificial perfection. Just real light, real love, and images that will still mean something twenty years from now.
This moment is worth documenting. Not someday – now.