It took me to the age of 31 to discover that I have a photographic memory. The lightbulb turned on one day while I was taking an exam during one of my final-semester classes before student teaching. I read the exam question, closed my eyes and found the image in my mind of the page of notes I had taken, and both “read" those notes and “heard” the professor speaking the same words as in the question with the rest of the answer. To say the least, that was unexpected. However, the blessing of that lesson is the journey back to finding myself as a memory hoarder and to my path to photography as a passion.