From the deskPixley Creates
About Sarah
Traveler, photographer, writer and technologist, collecting stories through travel and mailing handwritten letters from her desk.

the map is still mostly unpainted.
People are always trying to figure out what their passion is or what they’re supposed to be doing in this world. I think sometimes the answer is much simpler than we make it. Pay attention to the thing you do that feels almost effortless—the thing other people look at and wonder, How do you do that so easily? That might be a pretty good clue that you’re already doing something you’re naturally aligned with.
For me, it’s photography, video, and telling the stories of people, places, and things I encounter along the way. Letters from Pixley is where I get to turn that passion into something tangible. I share the stories I collect, and I transform my own photographs into art prints or coloring pieces that you can color, keep, frame, or make completely your own.
I’ve had a camera by my side for as long as I can remember, long before everyone carried one around in their pocket. In high school, I was the weird girl with the camera, always documenting something, always noticing something, usually hearing, “Why are you taking a picture of that?” Looking back, my life sometimes reminds me of that scene in Beetlejuice when Lydia explains why she can see dead people and other people can’t, “Live people ignore the strange and unusual. I myself am strange and unusual.”
I understood that feeling long before I had words for it, the sense that you’re standing in the same room as everyone else, but somehow seeing a different room. When you’re young, that can make you feel strange or awkward because you know you’re different, and other people know it too. But as I got older, I began to understand that the things that once made me feel weird, my empathy, curiosity, imagination, creativity, and tendency to notice the tiny details everyone else seemed to miss, were actually some of my greatest gifts. Sometimes the qualities other people don’t understand in you are simply qualities they don’t possess themselves. What once felt like being an outsider eventually became my way of connecting more deeply to the world. That instinct led me into a 15-year career as a photographer and later into travel journalism, where for seven years I authored Worth the Trip for NBC Washington, traveling throughout Washington, D.C., Maryland, and Virginia, meeting fascinating people, discovering incredible places, and collecting stories along the way.
I’ve spent my life moving between seemingly opposite worlds. I’m equally at home hiking a mountain trail with a camera as I am sitting with executives discussing artificial intelligence, cybersecurity, and the future of technology.

the same person, both times.
Over the years I’ve worked as a journalist, photographer, marketer, entrepreneur, and technical professional for a fortune 100 tech company, helping organizations solve complex technical challenges while never losing sight of the people behind them.
Through every chapter, one thing has remained constant: a deep curiosity about the world and a desire to understand what makes us human.

Today, as you read this, this is where those paths come together. It’s a place for stories collected through travel, photographs that preserve moments most people walk past, handwritten letters that remind us to slow down, and businesses built to empower others through publishing, AI, and automation.
Technology should create more space for living, not less.
Sarah
I believe technology should create more space for living, not less, and that creativity has the power to bridge cultures, spark meaningful conversations, and inspire people to build lives that are deeply aligned with who they are.

room to live in, first.
If something I create encourages you to explore a little farther, think a little deeper, or believe a little more in what’s possible, then I’ve accomplished exactly what I set out to do.
The same camera, both worlds.
A house in the English rain, and a city on an Andean ridge. Nothing connects them except that I stood in both, which turns out to be enough to write about.
I’m excited to share my photographs with you.




