My great-grandmother, Della, had a Polaroid camera that she took everywhere with her. The thrill I got waiting for those captured images to appear, ignited the photo flame in me from an early age. With each snap, a moment in time stood still forever, and that made my grandma and her camera seem infinitely supernatural. In those moments, I knew I had to have a camera.

She hung her photos on the walls and in her hallway, and I would run down the hall and locate the important people, run my fingers down the heater vent to make a loud purring sound, and head to the kitchen to snag some frozen mini candy bars in her freezer.

My photo love is etched on my soul with warm nostalgia, thanks to my grandma.

Who inspired you to start taking pictures?