If you ask most photographers they will tell you that they can’t remember a time when they didn’t have a camera. That wouldn’t be true in my case. I began my creative life as a silversmith. Though I’ve always been fascinated by what a camera can do, and I dabbled for years with budget cameras, I didn’t come to the craft seriously until the early part of the digital age. When I held my first digital camera it was love at first sight. It was as if the blood started flowing differently through my veins. I knew somehow I had been reunited with a part of myself I’d been separated from at birth.
Since then my life has changed in myriad ways. My camera now is my way of interacting with the world and is rarely out of arms reach. When holding it to my eye I have the sense that there is nothing in life I can’t handle. Without it, I am vulnerable and a little more alone.
I’ve tended always to dance to a slightly different drummer. My approach to photography mirrors the way I try to live in the world…. I aim to look closely, listen well and laugh a lot. Folks who know me well know that I can be relentless to a fault and so it is with my photography. Whether I’m photographing people, dogs, cats, frogs, sunsets, streams or cloudy mornings, I hope to develop a rapport that goes beyond our roles as photographer and subject. It’s in that rapport that I work to reveal that which lay just beneath the surface. It’s there that humans, animals and even nature hides and protects all that is fragile. In that fragile place we find our oft unrecognized common bond. And then there’s the humor, tucked as it is, around all those delicate parts like a box of packing peanuts making sure nothing gets broken along the way. When I am successful with my photography you will be able to see both the fragile and the funny, and, better still, you’ll nod your head in recognition of that which we all hold in common. If I can make you laugh or even smile just a little, well, that’s just the proverbial icing.