skyler vada photo

skyler vada photo

hey, i'm sky

hey, i'm sky

Thanks for stopping by. My name is Skyler, but my friends call me Sky (we're friends now).

Photography is my first love. Truly.

It's the thing in my life that has always felt constant, that has grown up with me.

I like to be on my feet. To be going and doing. When my name tag doesn't say photographer, you can find me as a: wannabe Manhattan local, a card game enthusiast, a black tea and oat milk drinker, a lover of any location that allows me to be in the sun, a storyteller.

I'm a people-person to my core. Meeting the nervous and excited and becoming faces of friends or lovers or individuals is what I was made for.

These photos are meant to live lives beyond a frame on your mantle, these are the pictures you scroll through whenever you're having an oddly routine day, trying to conceive of yourself having one where you didn't wake to an alarm and work the allotted hours at your desk. When you're up late trading camera rolls with new friends or lovers, when you're telling a story and you're laughing so hard the words just aren't forming and you're shouting a sentence that roughly resembles "wait! wait! I'll find the photo just give me a minute!" (your finger swiping past screenshots of recipes and different views out your car window, isn't it interesting how easily your timeline forms when viewing it like this?).

Creating these moments is what keeps me going. You deserve to document the in-between, the messy, the funny, the sweet. To tell your story!

My story seems to shift in plot every few months, and right now i'm stuck between a love of many extremes. The bustling and hazy evening hours of downtown Manhattan, the seemingly never ending smell of pine and fresh air when I visit my brother on the west coast. The desire to have a little metal name tag on a desk with some sort on non-sensical acronym (CEO, Entrepreneur, everyone's favorite personality hire, you get it). The competing desire to wake up in the mountains where I hear only crisp white sheets and wind and make a coffee so elaborate the process takes longer than the time to drink.

Yet, in every instance, I imagine a camera strap on my shoulder. The one an old man kindly gifted me on my last day visiting the camera store in my college town to be exact. "I'm moving to New York!" "Ah, a city girl. I like it! Be careful, bring us with you," is how it went down, relatively.

It goes like this, precisely:

We meet up, we talk, I make you run around and spin and laugh until the photos become you- really you.

Genuine and fun.

Until the story is clear: who you are and how you see the world.

This has always been so important to me. I am an avid journal-er, not that this has much to do with my capabilities with a camera, but more of the importance that I think documenting how you viewed your world in every stage is. My journal from high school? Lyrics from various 'cool bands' and how badly I craved independence, and when I think back to it I imagine my camera roll linking up seamlessly to my best friend and I driving for the first time, the photos a little blurry because iPhone quality wasn't top of the tech industries mind at the time, and edited with some sort of filter that enhanced every detail in a way that I'm not sure I would pick now. The world was my oyster and it contained a pearl necklace, I just knew it.

The moral of the story is that how I viewed the world was so unimaginably different, and in no way better or worse, but documented nonetheless.

Let's tell the story, every chapter!

Let's talk. About photos, about your day, maybe over coffee- I know of a good booth or two.

Love, Sky