ABOUT

I make photographs to hold the feeling of space—expansive, open, a place to breathe. I work to get it in camera: light, line, timing. In the edit, I build on what the moment offered. The scene must be real yet interpreted—witness and point of view held in the same frame.

Color has to be the reason the scene exists; if it isn't, black and white opens a different truth. Infrared extends this further—it renders living things luminous while stone and sky reveal their tonal depth. Long exposures compress time: water becomes silk, clouds become rivers, and the transient steadies into form.

The goal is simple: help the moment speak.

APPROACH

Much of my black and white work is made in infrared—a spectrum invisible to human vision that renders living vegetation luminous while revealing extraordinary tonal depth in stone and sky. Long exposures ranging from seconds to minutes compress time: churning water becomes silk, racing clouds turn to flowing rivers, grass softens to a pale drift.

I also work in color when the light itself becomes the subject—when volcanic fire meets ocean, when lightning stitches desert to sky, when slot canyons glow with reflected warmth. In these moments, color isn't decoration; it's the reason the image exists.

I'm drawn to places where geological time is visible—badlands worn to terraces, tufa towers risen from ancient lakes, sandstone carved by patient water. These are landscapes that measure themselves in millennia, not seasons. A photograph can't capture that span, but it can suggest it: the persistence of form, the slow work of erosion, the meeting of transient weather and enduring stone.