I AM YOUR PHOTOGRAPHER
When the right image comes through,
there’s a quiet click — not just in my camera,
but deep in my mind.
That’s when I know:
I’ve caught something outstanding. Something coming from source.
Light is not a tool — it’s a language. I don’t control it. I wait for it. I follow it. I see what often goes unseen: the pause before a movement, the glow beneath the surface, the soul behind the silence.
My photography captures depth,
remembers essence,
and holds beauty that speaks without words.
Through the Lens of Egypt
In Egypt, every photograph becomes a portal.
The golden hush of dawn over the Nile, the shadowplay on ancient sandstone, the timeless gaze of the Sphinx — they do not merely pose.
They speak.
Light is history, filtered through dust and eternity.
It falls gently on alabaster jars in forgotten tombs. It dances across turquoise tiles in a mosque courtyard. It carves stories into the wrinkled hands of a date vendor in Luxor.
To photograph Egypt is to listen.
To witness silence roaring in temples,
to catch the desert wind painting patterns in sand,
to find the sacred in the mundane — a cracked door, a barefoot child, an old man praying.
You don’t just take pictures in Egypt.
You receive them.
Like gifts. Like whispers from the past.
This podcast changed my life. My whole damn life.
