"You have to get the stray gesture. You have to get the slightly wrong writing. I mean, the writing that isn’t perfect, isn’t exactly clean, precise, doesn’t always make sense. That’s some of my favourite writing because it opens up all these possibilities — the idea that you might be reading something that even the author of the story didn’t intend for you to read. Those accidents that happen in writing... you know, my sentences sometimes get away from me, and so does my logic, and I find myself surprised by what I’m putting down on the page. But I love that. I leave in a lot of mistakes because I think they’re revealing. I think it adds up to a quickening of the blood."
- Sarah Nicole Prickett, editor of Adult
The human experience is fascinating, emotional and unpredictable. It is not something to be checked off from a list that thinks it can predict life or repeated with stiff movement. Reality - the good, the bad and the weird - is beautiful and moving and deserves to be documented with appreciation and sensitivity.
People who work with me are open to collaboration. I invite them to be dynamic and vulnerable, to reveal their humor and share their dreams. They trust me to photograph all of this without judgment and with sincere honesty. My approach does not involve being a loud photographer with an arsenal of camera gear, telling people how to be or how to love each other; but rather, a quiet old friend lovingly documenting a celebration of connectedness, a friend who appreciates quirks and understands the importance of preserving them.
This collaboration of willingness and understanding produces imagery that is familiar, intimate, meaningful and relevant. I seek to create photographs that affirm love in its many forms and ignite a string of memories in the generations of viewers that follow.
My name is Justine and I am a photographer living in Grand Rapids, MI, with my husband, François and our pup, Freyja. When we're not watching kung fu or stuffing our faces with bread & cheese, I generally have a camera attached to my face.