The First Frames: Donna in the Garage

The First Frames

Before the Leica. Before the studio. Before I really knew what I was doing — there were these. The first frames. Awkward, overexposed, underexposed, sometimes lucky. But every one of them mattered.

This is the first in a series of early shoots — small moments that shaped how I learned to see.

I was 19, maybe 20, and still figuring it out — exposure, posing, how not to shake when the model looked right at me. It was late fall in Sacramento. I had just picked up a couple of yellow work lights from Lumberjack Hardware. They weren’t made for photography, but they had handles and metal cages, and I figured that made them professional enough.

Donna Bullard had agreed to let me photograph her. She reminded me of Cybill Shepherd from Moonlighting — confident, poised, and just so damn pretty. I was nervous. I didn’t have a studio, just my parents’ garage. No backdrop, no heater, just a blanket, some plywood, and a whole lot of excitement.

I shot these with my Yashica 635 on Kodak VPS II. The work lights threw harsh shadows, and my exposures were hit or miss — but when I see these now, I remember exactly how I felt. I wasn’t chasing perfection. I was chasing possibility.

This was my first real “pretty girl” shoot. Before I had lighting ratios or reflectors or any clue how to meter properly. But I knew enough to know that I loved it. That I wanted to get better. That this — working with someone, creating something, freezing a little moment in time — this was what I wanted to do.

Looking back now, I can see everything I got wrong. But I can also see the start of something.