Beyond my work in mental health, I am passionate about both sides of the camera lens. I thrive on physical challenges, seek out remote destinations, and connect with people from diverse backgrounds. My work documents the cultural and psychological dimensions of the human experience. I am deeply fascinated by traditional communities and countercultures, the complexities of identity and self-expression, and stories of resilience in the face of adversity. Cemeteries and abandoned places hold a particular allure for me. Through my photography, I aim to reveal our shared humanity, challenge stereotypes, and inspire others to live authentically and boldly.

My curiosity has carried me to some of the world’s most iconic spiritual centers — Christian, Judaic, Hindu, and beyond. I’ve gazed upon the largest religious monument on Earth, explored ancient Buddhist, Jain, Islamic, Roman, and Nabatean sites, and witnessed the daily lives and sacred rituals of the Sherpa, Torajan, Tatuyo, and Maasai peoples.

I’ve touched history itself: tracing the intricate carvings of the Alhambra, marveling at the stone inlays of the Taj Mahal, exploring the bas-reliefs at the Temple of Horus, and feeling echoes of the past at the remnants of the Berlin Wall.

I’ve slept in a bomb shelter in Beirut, a haveli in Rajasthan, a ryokan in Kyoto, a geodesic dome in Patagonia, a Tongkonan house in Indonesia, a cave hotel in Cappadocia, a kettuvallam in South India, a jungle lodge in the Amazon, a glass pod clinging to a cliff in Peru, and a tiny house on a Hawaiian lava field.

I’ve shed tears at Yad Vashem in Jerusalem, witnessed a funeral ceremony in Tana Toraja, and embarked on a soul-searching plant-medicine ritual in the Andes. I’ve walked through Africa’s largest slum, inhaled the scent of burning bodies on the banks of the Ganges, and savored flavors as diverse as kangaroo satay, laal maas, fugu shirako, and alligator quiche.

I’ve sailed the Nile, drifted through Kerala’s backwaters, and explored Tasmania’s wild west coast by boat. I’ve floated weightlessly in the Dead Sea and relaxed in Jamaica’s Blue Lagoon. I’ve indulged in the ritual of a hammam and the serenity of an onsen. I’ve bathed elephants, cuddled koalas, swum with Amazon river dolphins, and watched a pride of lions feast on a buffalo.

My adventures have taken me camping on the most glaciated mountain in the contiguous U.S. and among the dunes of the Thar Desert. I’ve hiked the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, completed the grueling Three Passes Trek in the Himalayas, trekked the W Circuit in Torres del Paine, summited Kilimanjaro, and mountaineered on the Cascade Volcanoes — endurance feats sustained by my disciplined Ashtanga yoga practice, where mastering the full primary series has strengthened both my stamina and focus.

I’ve cycled a century along the Pacific Coast Highway, snowboarded in the Rockies, and galloped on horseback through Colorado. I’ve tested my surfing skills in Mexico, learned fly-fishing in Montana, scuba-dived in Florida, and snorkeled along the Great Barrier Reef. I’ve paraglided in Lebanon, skydived in California, zipped through the treetops of Guatemala, and flown ultralight in Costa Rica.

Of course, travel hasn’t been without its mishaps — a sprained ankle at Burning Man, bedbug bites in Siem Reap, a stolen purse in Paris — but each misadventure has become part of the story. And it was only after immigrating, earning a Ph.D., and working with the U.S. government that I finally visited my father’s birthplace, a place once inaccessible to me while living in Lebanon.