By Emily Rivas
There is no gift greater than to be able: being able to develop, introduce, and create anything of any form. I discovered one ability in photography, roughly eight years ago. At that time, I entered high school, reaching a stage that demanded an outlet for self-expression. I needed an outlet that shared my vulnerabilities without being too revealing; photography seemed the closest to it—it shows all I encompass while leaving room for ambiguity.
Using whichever photo-taking mechanism I retrieved, my high school self began documenting life through photographs. I would capture images of all that felt special. I quickly noticed a common theme: each photo was of my loved ones. And it made sense—my loved ones compose my whole life. I realized why I had an ability in the first place, and it was through them.
And it made sense—my loved ones compose my whole life.
Thus, I present the reason I am able, as depicted by a collection of portraits taken within the past four years.
Dad Driving through Los Angeles’ Streets at Night on Jan. 21, 2020. | Courtesy of Emily Rivas
My father, 47 at the time, drove home after a day in the city. Earlier that day, my family and I ventured through the noise of Los Angeles. In the noise I was happiest—for it signified the lengths it took to get there; it is where my father granted me a life he couldn’t endow himself.
My father’s upbringing in Guadalajara—and his obstacles in California—initiated a path to restoration. His path led him toward faith, as he sought a better life for himself and my family. He later landed a job as a delivery driver, where he learned about the best restaurants and markets in Los Angeles. On his days off, he would drive my family and me to them, a new location each time. These outings eventually became a weekend ritual.
On the day of this photo, my dad introduced us to Silverlake. There, we inhaled pork-broth ramen and sipped coffee from eco-friendly cups. “Your dad loves to make his girls happy,” my mother said.
He made us a second home in the city, a privilege that we could only experience through his efforts and his faith.
Haylee Fixing Hair During Family Trip to Ojai, California on Aug. 13, 2022. | Courtesy of Emily Rivas
My parents, sister, and I took a summer trip to Ojai, a desert Californian city in 2022. We often took small trips together to explore the different areas of our state. In this image, Haylee, 19, fixes her hair, preparing for the hotel’s pool and ensuring that her long black hair maintained its shape in a ponytail. Standing in the back, my mother, 43, watches her lovingly. “I remember feeling so safe,” Haylee shares.
As I studied my mother and sister’s reflections in the mirror, I found beauty in femininity and motherhood. Haylee was feminine in the way she protected her appearance. My mother expressed her motherhood in the way she admired her daughter. And I, in the mix of them, saw them, not as my sister or mother, but as women: strong, self-assured, beautiful.
We were three women, peering into each other’s reflections with pride.
Two Friends Sitting at Long Beach Public Library November 17, 2023. | Courtesy of Emily Rivas
While Long Beach is popular for its many waterfront attractions, it also provides creative spaces at little to no cost. One space is in the Long Beach Public Library, which offers different makerspaces for every artistic medium. My friends, Greg and Lesther, and I, 21, planned a day to scout this library.
To our surprise, the makerspace was empty. “We basically got it to ourselves,” mentioned Greg. We enjoyed the solitude anyway, simply happy that we were in one another’s company.
After finishing our time at the makerspace rooms, we sat near a window on the library’s second floor. I reached for my Kodak Cameo Motor Ex film camera to photograph the moment.
Greg and Lesther have been my closest friends since high school. Though it’s difficult to see each other consistently now that we’re older, the days we do spend together feel as if nothing has changed. They are a prime example of what I believe lifelong friends are.
My friends have seen a plethora of my phases and I have seen theirs. And despite who we were or how we acted in those phases, we remained accepting of each other, and continue to do so today. They consistently remind me that unquestioning platonic relationships exist, because they exist.
The Most Beautiful Person I Know at Huntington Library, San Marino on Feb. 14, 2022. | Courtesy of Emily Rivas
Spending an evening in a botanical garden is a pleasant pastime for couples of every type. Nestled in San Marino, California, the Huntington Library, Art Museum and Botanical Garden holds a collection of educational, artistic, and cultural sights that appeal to all.
My significant other, Esteban Sanchez, 20, and I, 19, planned a date at this location in 2022, honoring our second Valentine’s Day together. There, we roamed the botanical garden’s large vicinity and visited its grand art museum. While exploring its gallery, we critiqued the museum’s array of clay sculptures. We had conversations amid our exploration about the insects on the plants and our goals for the future. Our date was a precious way to connect with nature, with art, and with the person we cherish most.
Of all of the individuals I photograph, Esteban is my favorite to capture. He is the one whom I find the most muse in. In a physical sense, his features complement one another harmoniously. When I captured the image above, I was mesmerized by how the sunlight enhanced these features, highlighting his cheekbones and softening his smile. As he stood beneath the garden’s trees, I photographed two candid images of him with my Canon 888 film camera.
His internal beauty is as complementary as his external beauty. He is secure, patient, and empathetic. His qualities taught me what it is like to unconditionally love in a manner that I have never experienced before him—it is intentional in that it confirms why we choose each other every day.
Esteban is the reason I continue to take photos today: it motivates me that so much love can be found in a person.
Friends, Significant Other, and I Celebrating Birthday on Sep. 16, 2023
They consistently remind me that unquestioning platonic relationships exist, because they exist.
Together, my family, friends, and significant other unveil respective manifestations of unconditional love. My father is as unconditional as his faith; my mother exemplifies an absolute devotion in motherhood; my sister, embracing the beauty of femininity; my friends and their boundless acceptance; my significant other, who symbolizes intentionality.
My photographs are artifacts of the times I spend with my loved ones. Each photograph reminds me that boundless love exists in all forms. These photos illustrate my purpose: why I exercise my ability to create. Without the individuals in my photos, without their unconditionality, I would have never felt the courage to be able.
Through them, I am able.
Emily Rivas (She/Her) is a Mexican-American Los Angeles County Native. A full-time college student, she spends her free time exploring her passions: writing, photography, music, and other creative mediums.
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