A collection of images from client shoots, to personal favorites, great adventures, quiet solo outings, and fond memories of time spent with friends in the outdoors.
Portraiture, on location, studio and active lifestyle.
This selection of images were taken while leading photography workshops for Trail Runner Magazine over the last 5 years.
Photo instructing, art direction, on-location sports, running, outdoors
Cover shoot for Trail Runner magazine's special annual edition Dirt.
We spent a cold, blustery day at the Book Cliffs shooting with Rickey Gates and Megan Kimmel. What a privilege to shoot with such pros. We ended up getting only 15 minutes of good sunlight that day and we got the shot.
The West Slope project was formed from a culmination of events.
The imagery I created during these six years didn’t come from any plan of ever doing anything with them, let alone a fine art project. The imagery I created was simply an impulsive reaction to documenting the natural beauty I witnessed all around me. They are vignettes of the wild, natural, world I connected with emotionally and spiritually.
I hadn’t taken a single photograph in several years. I had spent nearly half my life trying to make the art form I loved be my profession. It wasn’t that I lacked talent, training or effort. It was simply the fact that I was more of an artist than a businessman. So at the age of 30 I transitioned to a career as a graphic designer and art director. As I focused on this new path my photography took a back seat and I became very critical of the photographs I made. As I focused on my new path my edge for the capturing photographs also faded and eventually I stopped picking up the camera.
When I moved to Carbondale I was so inspired by the people and places around me that I started taking pictures again. The tool I inevitably defaulted to use to capture my amazing and new-to-me backyard was my iphone camera. In hindsight this makes sense to me. Because I was subconsciously making a decision to not take any picture taking too serious. After a few years capturing images with my iphone of my jaunts and adventures in this new backyard. I decided to look back through the images. In doing so I noticed something about them. I noticed that the freedom I found using the camera on my phone had allowed me to be free of my own biases, criticisms and constraints and in the process I had learned to see creatively in a new way. Portraying what I saw in a way that is better connected to my emotional response to the landscapes I was observing. A new way of seeing arose that showed expression and emotion to that beauty.
Declination: the angle formed between a magnetic needle and the geographical meridian.
The Declination Project is a 25 year photography retrospective. This body of work is based around the concept of searching for a sense of place.
If you don’t know where you are, you don’t know who you are. —Wendell Berry
The deep ecologists warn us not to be anthropocentric, but I know no way to look at the world, settled or wild, except through my own human eyes. I know that it wasn’t created especially for my use, and I share the guilt for what the members of my species, especially the migratory ones, have done to it. But I am the only instrument that I have access to by which I can enjoy the world and try to understand it. So I must believe that, at least to human perception, a place is not a place until people have been born in it, have grown up in it, lived in it, known it, died in it – have both experienced and shaped it, as individuals, families, neighborhoods, and communities, over more than one generation. Some are born in their place, some find it, some realize after long searching that the place they left is the one they have been searching for. But whatever their relation to it, it is made a place only by slow accrual, like a coral reef.
Wendell Berry is not talking about the kind of location that can be determined by looking at a map or a street sign. He is talking about the kind of knowing that involves the senses, the memory, the history of a family or a tribe. He is talking about the knowledge of place that comes from working in it in all weathers, making a living from it, suffering from its catastrophes, loving its mornings or evenings or hot noons, valuing it for the profound investment of labor and feeling that you, your parents and grandparents, your all-but-unknown ancestors have put into it. He is talking about the knowing that poets specialize in.
—excerpt from Wallace Stegner, The Sense of Place. 1992.