Hi! I am Songhui
Who I Am, and Where I Come From
I wish I could say I grew up loving photography and art. It would probably sound more professional. But the truth is, I didn’t.
I grew up loving writing, observing the world and putting it into my own words. In many ways, it still is.
I never knew I cared about photography until I got a camera as a birthday gift 6 years ago.
But even before that, I had taken over 160,000 photos on my iPhone. I never thought of them as anything close to art. They were just pieces of my life, my friends’ lives, my world - our world, snapped in a rush, without much thought.
Until one day, I found my new favorite photo, among all the carefully composed, beautifully lit, perfectly posed images, was a random shot I took of my parents and husband on a cable car ride in San Francisco. There was nothing technically perfect about it, but it is a moment that stayed with me, and a photo that
still makes me happy every time I see it.
That changed how I see photography, and the kind of photos I want to take for others. Not just how things look, but what it feels like to be there.
I want to capture people in moments they can’t see themselves, what they look like when they are in love, surrounded by love, simply living it.
And if you’re here, maybe you’re looking for photos that feel the same way, honest, a little imperfect, but real enough to stay.
How I Photograph You
In the past, both as the person being photographed and when I was first learning photography, I tried very hard to make things look “good.”
I studied poses from paintings in museums, from fashion editorials, from whatever looked right online. I tried to recreate them and fit into them.
But it always felt a little off.
I was never those figures. I don’t have their stories, so I don’t laugh like they do or move the way they do. And I could feel that disconnect.
When I practiced photography with friends, I found myself doing the same thing, guiding them into “good-looking” poses, treating them like elements in a composition.
The photos looked right, but something about them didn’t feel right.
Somewhere along the way, I had made people and their feelings secondary to the idea of “art.” And that was never the reason I picked up a camera.
There’s a line often attributed to Caspar David Friedrich:
“Close your eyes and see with your inner eye. If you cannot see it, do not paint it.”
That stayed with me.
Because when something is forced, a pose that doesn’t feel natural, a version of ourselves we don’t recognize, if we close our eyes, we can’t really see it. It doesn’t exist in the way a true memory does.
And that’s what I want to give you, something real.
I won’t try to turn you into someone you’re not. I won’t ask you to perform a version of yourself that feels unfamiliar.
Instead, I take time to observe how you move, how you interact, how you connect with the people around you.
If it’s a wedding, a celebration, a gathering, I let things unfold naturally. You don’t need to slow down or interrupt your day for the sake of photos. I’ll be there quietly and attentively, ready to catch the moments as they happen.
And when it’s time for portraits, I’ll take care of the setting, finding the light, the space, the composition, and gently guide you into it.
There may be small prompts, simple directions, but what comes from them is always yours. The reactions, the gestures, the in-between moments are real, natural, and unforced.
Because in the end, it’s about you - your moments, your feelings - and letting them be fully yours, without anything getting in the way.