A lot of my work can be viewed as an outward expression of inner thoughts. Cameras, and by extension post processing, are tools I use to reconcile a variety of overarching inner struggles from my life. Many of these themes can be boiled down to two main concepts: the celebration of the human form & the duality we all live with. While many cultures have terms for this duality, I chose to describe this as ‘hope within struggle.’
Much of being human involves the acceptance of our ability to experience a multitude of emotions within a singular moment. For those of us who are deeply introverted; the ability to process the world and express these emotions is a struggle. A struggle that has effected me emotionally, physically, and spiritually. This struggle with ‘self’ fueled a deep need within to find a way of outward expression.
It has taken many years of struggling with acceptance and overcoming self isolation to learn that I could survive the light and the dark, the positive and the negative of life. I was able to not only begin to accept this duality; but I was able to start finding solace in it. Finally, in my adult life, I had sought to embrace hope within struggle.
Much of my work focuses on a single subject immersed in a sparse environment. I’m often drawn to abandoned places and nature as settings. Particularly, the foggy and gloomy, often overlooked scenes. In my earlier work I focused on architectural subjects. I found myself drawn to this concept in the form of abandoned places. There is an alternate reality when you dive into this world. It’s a unique look into the recent past that has been cast off and left behind. Yet, in the emptiness and isolation, there is a vulnerability and melancholy that creates beauty in the sparse spaces.
I have learned to embrace incorporating the human form and its sculptural presence. I search for the same emotive feeling I have in abandoned places in the natural world. Though fog is not in all my work, whenever it is possible, I try to incorporate it. Fog forces you to be present in the moment. In any direction, you can only see for so far, leaving you with what is exactly happening within the present. You can look ahead of you, but you can’t see the future. You can look behind you, and you’re not defined by the past. You’re caught in the singular moment that will not happen the same way again.
For this reason, I want my work to convey a sense of visceral feeling and presence. I am not concerned with the narrative that relates to the before or after. I want the viewer to experience a momentary ineffable catharsis, to be hopeful within the present struggle. I want them to experience the singular moment.