My journey into the realm of the Olympics began in the early 2000s, amidst the hushed ambiance of the local library where my mother diligently completed her school assignments. While she delved into her studies, I found solace in the pages of picture books, preferring visual narratives over the dense prose of chapter books. Among the treasures of literature lay the illustrious New York Times photo books, capturing the essence of each decade in striking imagery. It was within these pages, nestled among the chronicles of history, that I chanced upon a defining moment: the iconic protest of Tommie Smith and John Carlos at the 1968 Olympics, immortalized in monochrome.

The sheer potency of that image left me breathless, igniting within me an insatiable curiosity for both the Olympic Games and the tumultuous spirit of the 1960s.

Now, two decades on, I find myself immersed in the pulsating world of sports photography, a path unforeseen yet undeniably organic. It is a realm where every click of the shutter resonates with the fervor of athletes who sacrifice tirelessly to represent their nations on the grandest stage of all. While the allure of competing for my country tugs at my heartstrings, I find profound fulfillment in the role of the observer, armed with camera lenses poised to immortalize the triumphs and tribulations that unfold before my lens.