Michel: Absolutely, but let me start by saying how inspired my fiancé Alex and I are by what you both have built together alongside your small and mighty team. After hearing your story, your grit and resilience is something we’ve been thinking a lot about lately and we hope to emulate that same energy for years to come.
Now to your question: I believe all things we do should start with a clearly defined reason, our “WHY.” Mine for shaping LAOBRA wasn’t originally about starting a business—it came from falling out of love with my work. I was raised very humbly in a large city in New Jersey called Paterson. Growing up, I didn’t really know where I fit in—no one around me thought quite like I did. Few people around me seemed as unsettled by the status quo of life as I was. As the observer that I am, I often knew more about what I didn’t want than what I did.
Things shifted in 2014 when I saw JR’s TED Talk about using art to turn the world “Inside Out.” That’s when I realized what lit me up was helping people feel seen. So I followed that feeling—believing that somewhere in New York City’s art world, I’d find my way closer to that calling.
After years of knocking, in 2018 a door finally opened for me at Milk Studios when they still had their iconic space in the Meatpacking District. After about 15 months of working my way up their ranks, I flew the coop and began my freelance career in commercial advertisement photography. I started at the bottom of the call-sheet as a Production Assistant, then worked my way up to a Photo Assistant, and most recently as a Digital Tech—which basically means I help photographers manage their digital images throughout the photoshoot.
By 2022 I had been freelancing for about 3 years, and by superficial measures I should’ve been happy. I earned well in my role as a Digital Tech, I had reliable clients, and worked with tons of friends. However, as grateful as I remain for that era of my career, I just wasn't feeling it anymore. I felt my passion for creating evaporating with time and knew I needed to find a way to rekindle the fire for creating I once held in my heart.
I felt I needed space where I could experiment with complete freedom, tinker with all things I felt drawn to. Some days it could be photography—or roasting coffee—maybe even making furniture. By the end of this chapter, my rediscovery of passion came from all those things—but also it surprisingly came from the process of shaping the space that made that exploration possible—the space that continues to welcome experimentation—better yet, encourage it. A space that serves as a conduit between us and that pure feeling of excitement brought on by child-like play, balanced between rest and work. That process continues to this day—and thankfully, it feels never-ending.