2025 Photo Annual Exhibition Selections

This picture is from a trip to Charleston, SC taken from my Olympus digital camera. When traveling for me it's easier to take a digital camera, so I can take as many photos as I please. When I got back from the trip I edited as many of the photos including this one that stood out to me. "miniscule sprouts spotted lost in existence" is from a day spent at Gibbs Gardens with my partner. Every year for our anniversary we go to a garden, this time I had my Minolta 35mm camera with me. I get the film developed at Bellows film lab, and scan the negatives my self then do some color correcting and other edits to bring the photo to how I remember it. "as endless as a hidden galaxy" is from the same day at Gibbs gardens so I did the same process, getting them developed at Bellows, then scanning and editing them myself. For me this garden still is a hidden gem, and would love more people to visit. There's many cozy and quiet spots to find if you know where to look.

There are forgotten and lonely things — an old car, an abandoned store building, a broken vending machine. Once, they were new and gleaming, surrounded by people talking, laughing, living. Now, they stand abandoned, quiet, and alone. I found them for you. Photographed with old film cameras to evoke a nostalgic, vintage mood.

I'm a Latina women in her early 20s trying to find her way in this world. I am able to express how that alone, feels. I include my friends, family and everything that envelopes me in this big city. Lost and found to me immediately sprung that feeling of finding that sense of belonging in this world; a world that did not feel like mine, a world that felt it could only be against me. Through my film photography I am able to express just that in a creative and subtle way. Each image shows in one way or another of being different and unique, to being ok with it or not, to not understanding how one is supposed to feel.

This picture gives a sense of nostalgia. The sun beaming through the blinds and lighting up the old curtains made me feel like I was in my childhood, observing things that stood out to me.

Watching my best friends little brother grow up in a 10 year span while it feels like time hasn't moved.

This photo is supposed to show how one can lose their childhood and then find adult responsibility. I used to love playing with cars and drawing houses exactly like that when I was a child. But now, I have schoolwork, chores, and other things, such as the ones depicted in this photo, that distract from or get in the way of the fun things I used to do. The house is especially significant in this photo because it holds a lot of nostalgia for me. When I was 5, I submitted to the Gwinnett Public Library's bookmark drawing contest. I won that competition with a drawing like that one. Now, I am submitting to this competition, hoping to do well.

Over time, one becomes one's mother's companion, not just a daughter, but the one who inspires and, at times, becomes the guide for the woman who gave us life. The path is full of losses and encounters. We leave childhood behind to face adulthood, carrying the blood of our ancestors across borders. These three images represent the last journey I took with my mother, where I lost the life I knew to find myself on this side of the wall.

These are all visual metaphors, focusing more on the "lost" part of "lost & found". These photographs explore isolation, anxiety, seasonal depression, etc. The lack of color and vividness display these metaphors further with the use of black & white photography. The "found" part is open to interpretation with these photographs.

Raksha Bandhan is a Hindu holiday where siblings tie a Rakhi (bracelet) on each other to symbolize a bond of protection and love between them. This holiday occurs on the day of the full moon during the Hindu lunar month of Shravana (falls in August) every year. Traditionally this is between a brother and a sister (sister ties the Rakhi to the brother), but can extend to other family members. Every year, my sister and I tie each others's bracelets since we don't have a brother.

The poetic symbol of the heroes who once thrived in glory, fallen and forgotten in history.

2025 marks one decade since China ended its long-standing "One-child policy" that resulted in the abandonment of millions of infants. My story of growing up in an orphanage before being adopted and taken to the U.S. is one shared by many people impacted by this law. In most transnational adoptions, adoptees are not raised in an environment that teaches or reflects the culture of their motherland. As a result of this cultural fracture, many adoptees experience a sense of longing and grief regarding their complicated identity. I recently discovered photos of myself in the orphanage. This experience was painful because it reminded me of my inherent loss, yet it also inspired me to reflect on how I can help heal my inner child. Through this project, I aim to reclaim my feelings of imposter syndrome and grief by bringing my "inner child" (personified by these newfound photos) to everyday places that have helped me connect with my Chinese heritage. Through Chinese grocery stores full of spicy sauces, restaurants fragrant with fresh dumpling, and shops haphazardly stacked with lucky statues, I have slowly recreated my identity as a Chinese-American adoptee. In these reflections of China, I am able to see my culture, my community, and myself more clearly.

2025 marks one decade since China ended its long-standing "One-child policy" that resulted in the abandonment of millions of infants. My story of growing up in an orphanage before being adopted and taken to the U.S. is one shared by many people impacted by this law. In most transnational adoptions, adoptees are not raised in an environment that teaches or reflects the culture of their motherland. As a result of this cultural fracture, many adoptees experience a sense of longing and grief regarding their complicated identity. I recently discovered photos of myself in the orphanage. This experience was painful because it reminded me of my inherent loss, yet it also inspired me to reflect on how I can help heal my inner child. Through this project, I aim to reclaim my feelings of imposter syndrome and grief by bringing my "inner child" (personified by these newfound photos) to everyday places that have helped me connect with my Chinese heritage. Through Chinese grocery stores full of spicy sauces, restaurants fragrant with fresh dumpling, and shops haphazardly stacked with lucky statues, I have slowly recreated my identity as a Chinese-American adoptee. In these reflections of China, I am able to see my culture, my community, and myself more clearly.

2025 marks one decade since China ended its long-standing "One-child policy" that resulted in the abandonment of millions of infants. My story of growing up in an orphanage before being adopted and taken to the U.S. is one shared by many people impacted by this law. In most transnational adoptions, adoptees are not raised in an environment that teaches or reflects the culture of their motherland. As a result of this cultural fracture, many adoptees experience a sense of longing and grief regarding their complicated identity. I recently discovered photos of myself in the orphanage. This experience was painful because it reminded me of my inherent loss, yet it also inspired me to reflect on how I can help heal my inner child. Through this project, I aim to reclaim my feelings of imposter syndrome and grief by bringing my "inner child" (personified by these newfound photos) to everyday places that have helped me connect with my Chinese heritage. Through Chinese grocery stores full of spicy sauces, restaurants fragrant with fresh dumpling, and shops haphazardly stacked with lucky statues, I have slowly recreated my identity as a Chinese-American adoptee. In these reflections of China, I am able to see my culture, my community, and myself more clearly.

I’m a beginner photographer at Meadowcreek High School. I wanted to show my journey as a photographer and learn more about photography.

Each picture is supposed to represent finding something old and new. My first submission is supposed to represent finding a relic lost to time. My second submission is supposed represent a reconnection with nature, losing ones self only to truly find it amidst the gentle rays of light. Lastly, my third submission is supposed to represent finding cracks of hope in yourself, from the times you were most happiest to help wash away the darkness that slowly rolls in.

Looking for myself, I found Divinity. Looking for Divinity I found myself. Todo esta connectado y es sagrado. (it is all connected. And it is sacred.) In the journey of finding myself I found my spirituality, in the practices, the rituals and the medicines of millinary people, I found a connection worth living for, it was within. It was in the many versions of me that were calling out my name, calling me to come back them. Only I could save them from their forgotten place. In these photographs I attempt to express that sacre relationship.

I do not deal well with losing things. It triggers unwavering compulsive behaviors. I will look for something for the longest, in all places, and in places I have already looked in hoping that it will show up even knowing it won't but hoping that it will. And there is no better feeling than finally finding that one thing that was once lost. That relief high.

As a dream-journaler I am obsessed with the surreal, with frontier worlds unconfined by the ambiguity of social contingencies. In abandoned places, the dream-like nature of reality is clear to me and I am truly free.

These images reflect the quiet paradox of labor. The Latino worker, as an individual, can often feel invisible or lost within towering frameworks of steel, swallowed by the grid of rebar, or obscured behind unfinished walls. Yet through their persistence, something lasting is found, which is the purpose within structure and meaning in the permanence of what they build. In a year when voices across society are fractured and tensions pull us apart, this work reminds us of the unseen people who stitch stability into our lives. The structures we stand on, live in, and govern from are born of their resilience. Even as individuals fade into the background, their labor endures as a testament to both survival and the hope it inspires. There will always be permanence in the foundations that outlast the discord.

These images are from my trip to Ecuador with my parents and younger sister. The last time I had been in the country I was a one year old and now, I was returning 24 years later. We were visiting my mother’s family, who had stayed in the country, while my father’s had migrated to the U.S. My parents had no pictures to share with us of their life in Ecuador. I took my film camera with the intention of having pictures of my parents and their time in Ecuador as part of our family albums. Photographs cannot make up for the time and people that are lost to crossings and paperwork and borders and waiting. There was only the hope that whatever I captured with my lens, that it would fill in all the gaps and tether me to the homeland and family members that I have only known through my parents’ stories. And what I found was my parents as children again - playful and animated and nostalgic, eager to show who and what they left behind. I saw a comfort and ease in my parents I have never seen, a laughter that can only be heard with the right people at the right place - this place they return to. I found my family members, loving and generous and creative, and the stories that can only be known from their mouths and memories. And I found that tether that I was always seeking, promising myself that it will not be lost again.

I recently felt lost and unsure on how to move forward after certain events this year. I was able to finally visit my family in Mexico after 9 years and I had never felt so at peace with myself. I’ve always had a difficult relationship with religion and not a religious person myself compared to the rest of my family but I can say that when I walk into a church, temple or any other buildings of worship my mind does seem to ease. This photo has a blur where the altar and certain religious symbols/statues are not focused, the picture made me make a personal reflection on how life has been recently. We seem to lose ourselves to the chaos that surrounds us, but we forget to stay true to ourselves and keep fighting. In a moment where I felt things were falling apart in my life, I was able to find a moment of peace and happiness, and realized that it was there all this time just coated and hidden behind all the chaos.

Each one of these pieces I feel explores losing and rediscovering a different part of yourself. In picture one I envision the blur as the fog you find yourself in when trying to discover who you are, and as the title alludes to how you feel when you decide to drown out your thoughts through art. Picture two explores the process I've felt of rediscovering and connecting with my culture and the aspects of my childhood that made me who I am. I am not a particularly religious person but the virgen has always brung me comfort and still does to this day. I hope when looking at this piece you can examine your own journey with your culture and how it's affected you. Picture three deals with nature. Amongst the hustle and bustle of everyday life we've lost that moment of calm, every moment of our lives is optimized to maximize "efficiency ' that's what the building and it's blinding red light symbolize to me. We've lost touch with the one thing that's given us everything. Nature.

Atlanta born and raised dancer Karen dancing in one of the most beautiful venues in Atlanta after spending years away to learn traditional dances in Mexico.

To go along with the theme of “Lost and Found” of the year I decided to submit photos that I’ve taken while traveling. For me traveling is more than just arriving to a new destination. Whenever I travel I always let myself get lost in the city on purpose. I believe you don’t truly explore a city unless you’ve gotten lost in it. With the sense of feeling lost in a completely different country also comes the feeling of being able to find myself. When I am lost I feel the most found. I can fully feel my feelings and thoughts. So that is why I chose to submit photos from my trips. I hope you enjoy. Thank you.

To go along with the theme of “Lost and Found” of the year I decided to submit photos that I’ve taken while traveling. For me traveling is more than just arriving to a new destination. Whenever I travel I always let myself get lost in the city on purpose. I believe you don’t truly explore a city unless you’ve gotten lost in it. With the sense of feeling lost in a completely different country also comes the feeling of being able to find myself. When I am lost I feel the most found. I can fully feel my feelings and thoughts. So that is why I chose to submit photos from my trips. I hope you enjoy. Thank you.

These images are from a larger body of work called the Black Faye project. The project explores concepts of the lost and obfuscated history of the African diaspora and the reclaiming of history through the lens of African folklore of the Aziza. The Aziza are the fairies within African folklore and exist in contrast to more Eurocentric depictions of fairies. Often seen as helpful mystical guides. In Europe, fairies are seen as illusive, mischievous, rare, and are seen as things to capture or own. In these found and restored family achieve photos of lost relatives become living folklore in there newly found state.

These images are from a larger body of work called the Black Faye project. The project explores concepts of the lost and obfuscated history of the African diaspora and the reclaiming of history through the lens of African folklore of the Aziza. The Aziza are the fairies within African folklore and exist in contrast to more Eurocentric depictions of fairies. Often seen as helpful mystical guides. In Europe, fairies are seen as illusive, mischievous, rare, and are seen as things to capture or own. In these found and restored family achieve photos of lost relatives become living folklore in there newly found state.

These images are from a larger body of work called the Black Faye project. The project explores concepts of the lost and obfuscated history of the African diaspora and the reclaiming of history through the lens of African folklore of the Aziza. The Aziza are the fairies within African folklore and exist in contrast to more Eurocentric depictions of fairies. Often seen as helpful mystical guides. In Europe, fairies are seen as illusive, mischievous, rare, and are seen as things to capture or own. In these found and restored family achieve photos of lost relatives become living folklore in there newly found state.

Reconnecting with my biological family. The process since 2019 of discovering my roots (in a familial way) and what the contributes to the complex plant I've grown into.

Awe, presence, and a sense of being small are things we are slowly losing grasp of. I like to capture images that give me those feelings. The red shouldered hawk and great blue heron were found just next to a heavily trafficked trail. If you were distracted or within your headspace then you could have easily missed them. But if you were present in the moment then you couldn't help but notice. The fishing pair struck me as so small and insignificant (in the best of ways) against the imposing treeline in the background.