I’m a photographer, yoga teacher, mother, and someone who has always been drawn to the practice of paying attention.

My work may take different forms, but at its heart, it comes from the same place: presence.

Behind the camera, I’m interested in the moments that feel like you—the big, extraordinary ones, certainly, but just as much the ordinary ones that are so easy to move past. The glance between two people. The way your child reaches for your hand. The wind catching your hair. The laughter that happens after everyone thinks the photograph has already been taken.

I don’t just want to make beautiful photographs. I want to witness something real.

Yoga asks much the same of me.

As a teacher, I’m less interested in creating a “perfect” pose than I am in helping people become curious about what is happening in their own bodies and lives. My classes blend thoughtful movement, breath, philosophy, anatomy, and a little humor. Sometimes we work. Sometimes we soften. Mostly, we practice noticing.

My Icelandic roots are an important part of who I am, and so is the life I’ve built here in the Seacoast of Maine and New Hampshire. I’m a wife and a mother, and motherhood in particular has changed the way I understand time, presence, and the significance of seemingly insignificant moments.

It has made me even more certain that ordinary life is worth paying attention to.

Maybe that’s the thread running through everything I do.

A yoga practice asks us to inhabit the moment while we’re still in it.

Photography lets us hold onto a piece of it after it has passed.

And somewhere between the two, I’ve built my work.