Amelia 2025: Stepping Back to Move Forward

Amelia 2025: Stepping Back to Move Forward

This year’s Amelia Concours was unlike any other for me. Not because of the cars, the auctions, or the atmosphere, but because, for the first time in years, I experienced it differently—I wasn’t working the event.

After losing the official photographer position, I decided to take a step back. Not in the sense of walking away from photography, but in allowing myself to simply be present. To remember what Amelia was before the pressure of instant turnarounds, tight deadlines, and the never-ending chase to be the first to post.

It felt like 2014 all over again. That was the year I met Tom Owen, who immediately told me to call him "Dad." From that moment, he became a second father to me, and Amelia became more than just a car event—it became a place of lifelong friendships and shared experiences. This year, I wanted to honor that by doing what we used to do: spending time with friends, enjoying the moment, and reliving the memories that made this event special in the first place.

That said, I still had work lined up, and thankfully, I was hired to photograph the Lemons event—something I truly enjoy because of the sheer comedy that comes with it. If you know Lemons, you know it’s not about pristine million-dollar showpieces but rather about creativity, chaos, and some of the best laughs you’ll ever have in the car world. It was refreshing to be part of something where the energy is so lighthearted, and I could really lean into the fun of it.

Aside from Lemons, the best part of the trip was, without a doubt, spending time with the Owen family and my closest friends. I don’t want to discount how incredible that was—having those deep conversations, sharing meals, and just taking it all in. But despite that, I found myself struggling with an internal conflict.

I wasn’t living up to my full potential behind the camera.

For once, I wasn’t rushing back to a hotel room to edit while everyone else was out networking and sharing stories over dinner. I actually got to sit at the table, be part of conversations, and truly enjoy the auctions without feeling like I had to run off to the next shoot. That’s the hidden con of working these events—the expectation that images should be delivered the second they’re taken. I’ve built my career on meeting that demand, and I take pride in it, but it was refreshing to have a year where I didn’t have to.

That doesn’t mean I didn’t struggle with it. My instinct is always to shoot, to chase the perfect frame. Even as I tried to take a step back, I still found myself hunting for angles and moments. But I treated it differently this time—like shooting on film. Every shot had to be intentional, every frame worth capturing.

Hagerty was kind enough to give me Fiat and Maserati to photograph as I passed by, which was a nice reminder that my work is still valued. But more than anything, I appreciated being able to have real conversations—not the usual half-in, half-out discussions where I’m listening while scanning for my next shot, but actual, engaged moments with people I care about.

At one point, I did something that felt completely foreign: I put my cameras away. I stepped back. And in that moment, something hit me. I wasn’t happy with how I approached this trip. I had come in thinking I needed a break, that I needed to just enjoy the event for what it was. But the truth is, photography is what connects me to these moments. Some of the best memories come from the candid shots—the spontaneous smiles, the little interactions, the stories hidden in a single frame.

Maybe it’s a photo of a group of friends in deep conversation, a moment that later becomes someone’s favorite memory. Maybe it’s an accidental capture of the first glance between two people who will go on to share their lives together. Maybe it’s something I didn’t even realize was special at the time, but years later, it sparks something meaningful for someone else.

That’s why I do what I do. That’s why I always will.

If this year at Amelia taught me anything, it’s that you don’t stop pushing forward just because you’ve made progress. Growth doesn’t mean stepping away from what you love—it means finding new ways to do it better. And maybe, just maybe, it also means learning how to balance it all.

Here’s to Amelia, to Tom, to the friendships that make this journey worthwhile, to Lemons keeping the fun alive, and to always staying ready—because the best moments happen when you least expect them.