Nearly two decades behind the lens —
and a lifetime of helping people find steady ground.
Calm Presence. Clear Process. Meaningful Work.
I’m fiercely loyal and deeply committed. When I care about something, I go all in.
That’s how the nickname “All In Annie” stuck.
That mindset shows up everywhere. On the tennis court. On the ski mountain. It shows up in supporting my kids in their activities and in my volunteer work with Soulumination, serving families walking through grief, shaped in part by my own experiences with loss.
It also shows up in my work.
Photographer, CPA & educator, tennis player, skier, mom of three teenagers— the woman many people know as “All In Annie.”
annie g
Hey, I'm
As an educator and CPA, I bring that same clarity and focus to business owners. I love seeing the moment when something clicks, when numbers make sense, systems feel manageable, and confidence replaces overwhelm.
Structure and creativity aren’t opposites. In my work, they go hand in hand.
As a photographer, I care deeply about connection. I love the shift that happens during a session — when people relax and it feels less like a photo shoot and more like time together.
Yes, we’ll capture the image where everyone is smiling at the camera. But the photographs people return to are the ones that bring them back to a season — the laugh, the look, the way it felt.
The photographs people return to aren’t just the smiling ones. They’re the ones that bring you back to how the moment felt.
One minute you’re wrangling toddlers. The next you’re helping your senior think about college. Every chapter feels full while you’re in it, and fleeting once it passes.
Photographing high school seniors has become especially meaningful to me for that reason. It’s a season of pride, change, and possibility — for both parent and child.
As a business owner myself, I value preparation, organization, and a smooth process. I want you to walk away not only with images you love, but with confidence — in how you were seen and how your story was captured.
As a mom, I know how quickly a season becomes a memory.
Teenagers who keep me on my toes
Years of balancing the books
Years of chasing golden light
To help you feel clear.
To help you feel capable.
To help you feel deeply connected to the season you’re in.
That’s why I do this work.
Whether I’m photographing a senior on the edge of adulthood, documenting a family in the thick of it, or helping a business owner show up clearly in their work, my goal is the same:
Over time, I noticed something else.
The families and creatives who trusted me were often quietly carrying stress — about deadlines, expectations, money, systems — even taxes. Questions they didn’t always know how to ask. Because when you’re standing in front of my camera, you shouldn’t be carrying the weight of everything else.
I realized I didn’t have to choose between the two parts of myself.
I could help people feel steady in meaningful moments — and confident in the process.
where both wolrds meet
Starting my business brought me back to what first drew me in — capturing people, relationships, and seasons that pass faster than we expect.
It also reminded me that structure and creativity were never opposites. Every session requires calm, flexibility, and problem-solving. Different light. Different personalities. Different dynamics.
photography became the path back
Then a loss early in my journey to motherhood changed everything.
It sharpened my understanding of how fragile and fleeting life can be. It clarified what mattered most — connection, presence, meaning. Returning to corporate life afterward and being expected to simply “push through” made something inside me shift. I knew I needed work that aligned with who I was becoming. That season reshaped how I see the moments we so often rush past.
then life shifted
Later, I chose a more practical path. I pursued accounting. I was drawn to clarity — to taking something overwhelming and making it understandable. As a CPA, I spent years helping people navigate complexity and find steady ground.
But before fully stepping into that world, I gave myself one gift: a semester in Siena, Italy. I wandered cobblestone streets with a camera in hand, photographing doors, light, and strangers. I would return to the darkroom hoping I had captured not just what I saw — but what I felt. That season stayed with me.
Life moved forward. Career. Marriage. Long hours. Responsibility.
a practical path
I loved the quiet of it. The patience. The precision. It felt creative and romantic, but also structured and technical — a balance of art and problem-solving that made sense to me.
I fell in love with photography in high school — back when it meant film canisters, darkrooms, and waiting to see if you got it right.
Why I Do What I Do
Calm presence.
Clear process.
Meaningful work.
You don’t have to manage the details.
You don’t have to perform.
You get to be present.
Images with depth.
A process you can trust.
Work that helps you show up with confidence.
Working with me means:
People want to feel seen, heard, and confident in how they show up.
Behind the camera, I pay attention. I read the room. I notice the subtle shifts — the pride in a parent’s expression, the hesitation in a senior finding their footing, the confidence building in a business owner stepping into visibility.
In both worlds, I’ve learned something simple:
For nearly two decades, I’ve been behind the camera documenting families, seniors, and business owners. Alongside that work, I’ve spent 25 years as a CPA — a role I continue to hold and one that shapes how I approach everything I do.
I also support photographers and creative business owners through tax education and financial clarity, because understanding your numbers changes how confidently you show up in your work.
My background in accounting and education strengthens that experience. I understand preparation, timing, and how to create a process that feels organized and calm. I know how to anticipate what might shift and adjust without disruption.
I bring emotional presence and steady structure into the same space.
happiest on the water, in the mountains, or on a tennis court
named after our family dog (the dog had to be renamed)
4th generation pnw native
