How I Found My Way Into Automotive Photography
- Hannah Begay-martinez
- Jan 2
- 2 min read
Cars have always been more than machines to me. They’ve always carried people, stories, and moments.
Before photography, before car meets, before any sense of direction—there was my mom.
When she was alive, she hosted drag racing events with other people who, like her, were paralyzed. Those gatherings weren’t about competition alone. They were about community. About reclaiming movement in a world that often limits it. Cars became a space where people could feel powerful, connected, and present.
She spoke openly about her struggles and the difficulties she faced, but she never allowed those challenges to define her. Watching her create space for others left a lasting impression on me. Long before I understood cameras or composition, I learned that cars could bring people together—and that mattered.
Photography came naturally later. I was always observant, drawn to light, motion, and atmosphere. In college, I started going to car meets with friends, mostly just to be around the culture. Over time, I brought a camera with me. What began as curiosity quickly became focus.
I gravitated toward JDM cars—the detail, the individuality, the personality behind each build. Photographing them felt less like documenting objects and more like capturing identity. Those early images weren’t perfect, but they felt honest.
Everything changed when I met my best friend, Micah.
Micah owned an importing business and hosted drifting events. He understood motion in a way few people do—not just speed, but timing, rhythm, and anticipation. Through him, I learned how to photograph drifting, how to shoot rollers, and how to stay composed when everything around you is moving fast.
He pushed me to take my work seriously and showed me how photography and videography could exist beyond hobby status. He believed in my ability to grow into this space, even before I fully saw it myself.
Micah passed away in July.
Losing him changed the way I approach my work. What once felt optional became intentional. Automotive photography is no longer something I casually do—it’s something I’m committed to building. It’s how I honor the people who shaped me and the culture that raised me.


Comments