A Note on Method
Photography is not an act of extraction, nor is it an exercise in illustrating a preconceived thesis. It is a handshake with the unconscious—a reflexive, pre-rational agreement made long before the intellect or the ego has time to step in and name what is happening.
Local, Little, and Unvarnished
Putting quiet content out into the world feels like walking into a crowded room and whispering. You wonder if it’s a vanity project—if anyone needs another photograph of an ordinary building, another page of minimalist prose, or another zine about a stretch of dirt in West Texas.
Stepping Outside
If you sit in one place and try to think of places to photograph, you’ll find yourself sitting for a long time. Things move quickly out there, and you’re better off stepping away with a notepad to jot things down as you see them—capturing the moments you want to return to.
Leaves
Midland, Texas
The Accidental Monochrom Hack
Photography hack: put an orange filter on the lens, set the camera to daylight, keep your raw processor locked to daylight in post, and switch everything to monochrome.
Burger Stand
Eating a hamburger in your car is a ritual, with every bite, lettuce dislodges and falls in your lap and hides in the gap between the seat and center console. You do your best to squeeze out some ketchup without getting it on your shirt. But it’s nice to be there at the end of the day, under fluorescent bulbs as the last bit of light fades and a stray dog walks past in the distance. We sit there listening to music, eating, seeing others place orders at the window and hear ticket numbers called, downing soda held by crunchy ice.
Closer Together
The old mantra is, if your picture isn’t good enough, you’re not close enough. We hear that and think that it means something in the external world comes alive when we stand closer to the subject matter. Yes, that’s mostly true, but it misses something—and that something is the photographer.
Work
I’m a tough sell to package into a standard artist format. For one, it’s photography; for two, the blog is too chatty. Honestly, sometimes I don’t even think of my work as art. It’s some weird hybrid thing—a mishmash of a wannabe photojournalist who dabbled in art, living way out in West Texas, and not even the artsy parts of it.
As I walked across the dunes and made test images, I saw deer tracks, butterflies, and a jackrabbit.
Memory
Memory is a creative act. We forge our memories long after we have lived them.
The places of our dreams
I had a dream last night that if I could be anywhere, I would be in Palo Duro Canyon.
Artist Statement: The Sandbox and the Worn Boots
Photography is not an argument, and it is not an answer. It is a sandbox—a place to play, experiment, think, grow, and learn.
Museum Sign
Fort Sumner, New Mexico
The Weight of the Instrument
Most cameras are designed to be cheerful. They are marketed with lifestyle videos that make everyday life look like an endless adventure.
The Old Truck
Amarillo, Texas
The Old Truck
There is a certain kind of comfort in using things that take their time.
The Single Frame
Shooting 8x10 forces you to slow down because the process demands it. When every sheet of film costs money, takes up physical weight, and requires a full darkroom session just to see if you got it right, you stop wasting exposures on things that don’t matter.
The Architecture of Sight: Focal Length as Intent
Tools do not just execute work; they dictate thought. The choice between a 35mm equivalent field of view and a 50mm standard view is not a technical calculation of glass and megapixels. It is a psychological switch.
Downtown
Amarillo, Texas
Open Air
Part of art’s appeal is that it is closed off. It operates with a strange idea of the public—signaling that it doesn’t need the people it claims to serve. Let it be walled off. There is room to be creative on the outside, in the open air, where things are real and unmanaged.