I grew up in Wisconsin and attended the University of Wisconsin–Madison. After college, I moved to Chicago to begin my career in advertising, which eventually brought me to Los Angeles. Not long after arriving, I got engaged and found myself settling in Pacific Palisades 23 years ago.
At the time, I was still young and didn’t yet have children. In many ways, moving to the Palisades felt like stepping into an entirely different world. I vividly remember thinking, “Where am I?” But I soon realized the town evoked a very similar Midwestern warmth and sense of community that’s rare to find in LA.
What I never could have predicted was just how profoundly the Palisades would shape my life. I was lucky enough to build the most extraordinary friendships with people who became chosen family. These relationships have been the foundation of my life and a constant support system not only for me, but for my daughters as well. Through every high and low, I’ve felt wrapped in a net of love, loyalty, and laughter. I also had the opportunity to build my own business here, doing my dream job and working with so many local families who have enriched my life beyond words. I’ve always felt like the luckiest girl in the world to live in the Palisades.
Let’s Share Your Story
Tell us a little about yourself. Where did your story begin, and what led you to the Palisades?
I grew up in Wisconsin and attended the University of Wisconsin–Madison. After college, I moved to Chicago to begin my career in advertising, which eventually brought me to Los Angeles. Not long after arriving, I got engaged found myself settling in Pacific Palisades 23 years ago.
At the time, I was still young and didn’t yet have children. In many ways, moving to the Palisades felt like stepping into an entirely different world. I vividly remember thinking, “Where am I?” But I soon realized the town evoked a very similar Midwestern warmth and sense of community that’s rare to find in LA.
What I never could have predicted was just how profoundly the Palisades would shape my life. I was lucky enough to build the most extraordinary friendships with people who became chosen family. These relationships have been the foundation of my life and a constant support system not only for me, but for my daughters as well. Through every high and low, I’ve felt wrapped in a net of love, loyalty, and laughter. I also had the opportunity to build my own business here, doing my dream job and working with so many local families who have enriched my life beyond words. I’ve always felt like the luckiest girl in the world to live in the Palisades.
How long have you lived or worked here — and what do you love most about it?
I have lived in the Palisades for 23 years and have had a business in the Palisades since 2014. What I love most about Pacific Palisades is the people, it truly is a community where everyone feels connected in a meaningful way. Even with that small-town charm, there’s a vibrancy to the Palisades, an energy that’s inspiring, creative, and always evolving. It’s a rare balance, and it’s one of the many reasons I felt so lucky to call the Palisades home.
Tell us about your work or your passion — past, present, or future. What lights you up?
As a portrait photographer, what truly lights me up is capturing real moments, those fleeting expressions and interactions that show a person’s true personality. I’m not interested in perfect poses or forced smiles. What excites me most is when parents see my work and say, “That’s so my kid.” It’s those genuine connections, the little quirks, the spark in their eyes, that’s what I aim to preserve. Knowing that I’ve created images that will take a family back to a specific moment in time, with all its authenticity, is what makes this work feel so meaningful. It’s not about perfection, it’s about connection, and I feel incredibly fortunate to do work that preserves those real, human moments.
Tell us a little about your family, community or what “home” means to you.
I am a single mother to 2 teenage daughters: Madeline, age 19 and London, age 16. My girls are my entire world and I feel so privileged that they were able to spend their entire lives up until now in the Palisades. To me, home has never been about how big the space is, it’s about how it feels. I had one of the smallest houses in the Palisades, but it was always full. Full of my friends, my kids’ friends and so much laughter. It was the kind of place where people felt welcome to drop by, where shoes piled at the door, game nights took place and pranks were pulled. Home, for me, means having an open door. My happiest moments always were when people would walk through my front door and I cannot wait to have that back again once I rebuild.
What’s something unique or special about the Palisades that you’ve experienced firsthand?
The Palisades quickly became more than just a place to live, it became my sanctuary. In every meaningful way, the Palisades gave me a chosen family that held me up during life’s most challenging moments and celebrated with me during its sweetest. Over time, neighbors became confidants, friends became lifelines, and everyday interactions grew into bonds built on trust, love and shared experiences. From helping raise my daughters, to showing up without being asked when things were hard, they became the people I could count on unconditionally. That kind of support, without the ties of blood but with every bit as much devotion, is rare and sacred. And that, more than anything, is what made living there so profoundly meaningful.
Community Favorites
Is/Was there a local business that makes you feel nostalgic or rooted here?
For me, the local business that made me feel most nostalgic and rooted in the Palisades was MPS, the preschool where both of my kids spent their early years and where I also took portraits at for the past 13 years. Every time I walked back into those halls, I was flooded with a unique sense of love and nostalgia, it was a feeling unlike any other. It wasn’t just a school; it was a community, a place where friendships blossomed, and where I met many of the friends who have become the very fabric of who I am as a mother. MPS was simple, precious, and truly my happy place, a grounding spot in the everyday chaos of parenting and life. The smell, the energy, the sense of that place was so comforting, like a warm embrace. I know it will be rebuilt again, but the original space and all it represented will always hold a special place in my heart.
Who’s the most interesting or inspiring person you’ve met here in the Palisades?
Ultimately, the most inspiring “person” I’ve met here might just be the Palisades itself….a community that teaches you daily about compassion, resilience, and the power of connection.
Fire Reflection
What stands out most from your experience?
What stands out most from my experience is obviously the profound grief of losing everything in an instant. There’s a kind of pain that comes with that loss that’s hard to articulate. It’s not just about losing things, it’s about losing the place where my life unfolded, where my children grew up, where all of my best friends lived, and where my routine felt safe and familiar. And yet, in the aftermath, there’s very little space to actually feel that grief. There’s paperwork, logistics, decisions you are forced to make and the constant pressure to move forward because you have no other choice. You become functional out of necessity. But emotionally, you’re still standing in the ashes, quietly trying to understand what just happened. There’s a deep loneliness in that, in grieving something so personal while life around you keeps moving. And yet, there’s also a quiet strength that emerges. You learn to carry your grief with you, to honor what was lost, and to rebuild even when you’re still heartbroken. I wouldn’t wish this experience on anyone. But what also stands out is the way people showed up. The love, the community, the people who were there for me without being asked, those are the things that endured and helps me keep going.
Was there someone — a neighbor, local hero, or group — that really made a difference for you during or after the fires?
It’s impossible to name just one person as there were truly too many to count. What amazed me most were the people who reached out that I hadn’t spoken to in decades, reaching out with compassion and support. There were letters from people who somehow managed to put words to a grief I couldn’t yet articulate. Their empathy cut through the numbness and reminded me I wasn’t alone. Support came from every angle; emotional, practical, spiritual, and often in ways I never could have anticipated. Simple drawings from my nieces and nephews became gold to me. I had lost everything, every keepsake, every piece of artwork from my kids, every physical reminder of my past, and suddenly, these new, handmade moments took on a sacred weight. They were something I could hold onto. I found myself cherishing even the smallest gestures, with a new reverence for any memory I could keep. Neighbors dropped off essentials without asking. Friends and family organized behind the scenes. People simply checked in, over and over again. Every act of kindness became part of the scaffolding that helped me stand back up. That outpouring reminded me that even in the face of total loss, you can feel profoundly held. And that’s something I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life
What did the experience teach you about the Palisades or about yourself?
The experience taught me something I hadn’t fully understood before, that PTSD is very real, and often completely invisible. On the outside, it may look like everything is moving forward, like life is being rebuilt piece by piece. But inside, there’s this constant undercurrent, a sense of hyper-awareness, of fragility, of not fully exhaling. The body remembers, even when the mind is trying to keep everything functioning. There were moments, and still are, when the smallest things can trigger waves of anxiety or sadness: a certain smell, a loud noise, the way the light hits a wall. It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t been through it, because there are no visible wounds. But the emotional imprint is deep, and it lingers. And yet, life keeps moving. Responsibilities remain. So you learn how to carry it, how to navigate the world while still healing. You learn how to give yourself grace on the days it’s heavy, and how to find strength in the fact that you’re still here, still standing, still showing up, even with the weight of what you’ve been through. It’s taught me a new kind of compassion, for others and for myself. Everyone’s carrying something. Some of it you can see, most of it you can’t. But if we meet each other with empathy, that’s where true community begins.
A Few Fun Ones
What advice would you give to others — in life, work, or being a good neighbor?
Be kind, be curious, and show up with authenticity in life, in work, and in your community. You don’t have to have all the answers, but if you lead with generosity and a genuine interest in others, you’ll always be on the right track. In work, I’ve learned that relationships matter just as much as results. Be someone people want to collaborate with, someone who listens, follows through, and brings a little light to the room. As a neighbor, it’s the little things that count: saying hello, lending a hand, or just remembering a name. Community is built on small, consistent gestures, and over time, they create a real sense of belonging. Life can be a lot, but humor helps. Finding the humor in life is everything to me.
Where do you see yourself in 5 to 10 years?
Back living and working in the Palisades. 100%.
