Behind the Lens: The Woman Who Taught Me to See

When people ask how AP Focus Photography began, they usually expect me to talk about cameras, lenses, or the first photograph that made me fall in love with photography.

The truth is, it started with my mom.

Long before I ever owned a camera, she filled our home with creativity. She loved to paint. Her canvases were filled with bright colors, peaceful landscapes, and the kind of beauty she saw in the world around her. She also owned an older Nikon film camera that she enjoyed using, capturing moments long before digital photography existed. Looking back now, I realize my passion didn't appear out of nowhere. She planted that seed years before I ever knew it.

Then life changed.

Cancer became part of our daily lives. Our conversations shifted from ordinary moments to doctor's appointments, treatments, medications, and hoping for one more good day. Watching someone you love slowly lose pieces of themselves while still fighting with everything they have is something I wouldn't wish on anyone.

Watching my mom suffer was one of the hardest things I've ever experienced.

When she passed away, it felt as though the world had gone quiet. I wasn't only grieving the loss of my mom. I was grieving the artist who taught me to notice beauty, the woman whose paintings still hang as reminders of who she was, and the person I thought would always be there.

For a long time, I felt lost.

Then I picked up a camera.

At first it was simply an excuse to get outside. I found myself wandering parks before sunrise, waiting hours beside a heron nest, or sitting silently along the water hoping an osprey would dive. Photography became my way of slowing down, breathing again, and finding pieces of myself that grief had hidden.

The more I photographed, the more I realized something.

I wasn't just taking pictures.

I was seeing the world the way my mom always had.

She saw beauty on a blank canvas. I see it through a viewfinder.

Every photograph I create is a reminder that even after loss, beauty still exists. Every family portrait reminds me how precious time together really is. Every wildlife photograph reminds me that patience is often rewarded. Every sunrise reminds me that darkness never has the final word.

AP Focus Photography isn't just my business.

It's my way of honoring the woman who taught me to appreciate art, to slow down, and to notice the beauty hidden in everyday life.

Every time I press the shutter, a small part of her is still creating with me.

Thank you for teaching me to love deeply, to care for others, and to never stop looking for beauty in the world.

This journey is for you Mom, I love you

Love,

Anthony (Tony) Pimms.

AP Focus Photography