I spent my early years moving from Hong Kong to London to Houston, immersed in different cultures before age ten. These experiences exposed me to many forms of art, but film—especially cinematography—always stood out for its unique power to connect people through a shared experience. If being a childhood nomad sparked my love for film; a childhood of medical traumas deepened it. I spent weeks in hospitals every year, with my time spent watching films—some visits routine, others serious, like a blood infection on my sixth birthday that nearly cost me my leg. These moments shaped a more grounded, sometimes darker view of life. Along with these visits close to death, my six concussions have made me sensitive to light—its intensity, source, and interaction with space—which now drives my minimalist approach to cinematography. I favor natural, single-source lighting that supports realism and gives actors freedom in a scene. The art that resonates most with me holds beauty and darkness side by side. Telling bleak stories with humor and hope, reflecting life’s ability to be difficult yet still worth sticking out until the end.