ABOUT ME

 

I have never really been just a photographer. I’ve been a dancer, a painter of enormous canvases, a filmmaker, a theater creature, a storyteller, a wanderer, and probably a few other strange things along the way. Photography simply became the place where all those worlds collided.

 

I don’t photograph people so much as I stalk the tiny moments when they forget they are being photographed — the flicker before a smile, the tension in a hand, the wildness in someone’s eyes, the loneliness, the laughter, the desire, the grief, the absolute unguarded weirdness of being human. I am hopelessly in love with black and white because color can sometimes tell you what to see, while shadow, texture and light leave you to feel it. My favorite photographs are rarely the polished ones. They are the accidents. The in-between seconds. The photographs nobody knew were happening. The ones where something of the person’s actual soul slips through. Years of moving through different art forms have taught me to see movement as something raw, something imperfect.

 

My work has been exhibited and featured in galleries over the years, but honestly, galleries were never the point. The point is making something that feels alive. Something raw enough that you can almost hear the person breathing. Working with me probably requires a certain amount of trust — because I am far more loyal to the strange little voice inside the art than I am to producing exactly what someone thinks a photograph should look like. Give me room to see you, rather than simply tell me how you want to be seen, and I might make something neither of us expected.