My photographic work is exclusively a labor of love. I find something deeply satisfying about putting a camera in a place it has never been before. Many of my photos strive to create in the viewer the same feelings I had when I took the photos. Sometimes it's nostalgia, or wonder or even a crushing sadness. If you see one of my photos and you feel like you know me better because of it than I have accomplished something. It is because of this desire to communicate feelings that I have some somewhat odd opinions about cameras. I would argue that cameras thrive on danger; they want to be put in incredible new places and positions. A camera does not belong in a bag, nor does it demand reverence. I do my best to put my camera in mortal danger as often as possible.
I am also lucky enough to have been a mild data hoarder since my youth so my photographic archive stretches back to my high school days in sleepy towns in Pennsylvania. I've actually even got a set of film prints from when I was about 6 (they are not yet digitized). I'll be this archive as I can.
This is a series of shots I took while on a long contemplative bike ride to Manhattan Beach in Brooklyn. At the time I felt a bit of ennui towards the changes happening in my life. Then without even realizing it, I managed to take a handful of photos that I felt captured this perfectly.
I later set out to show them to friends and family to see what these photos made them feel. I was curious about how these intense things going on inside my own head translated for other people. One such friend called them: "old," "wanting," and "far away and so close." This meant a lot for me as these word better even than my own described how that fall season felt.
This is the best results of 3 very, very old rolls of film from back when I used to shoot film. It was shot in many places at many times, and then basically just left to expire for a few years. They're from a darker time in my life and I didn't want to address these little bits of film. To me these photos look the way nostalgia feels. They make me miss a time in my life I probably have no business missing. I'm a very different person now and that's for the best, but in some ways I still wish I could be that old person who took these.
I hope that these pictures leave you missing memories you never actually made.
These are some very textural photos shot on a hazy September Day in Beautiful Sunset Park in Brooklyn. I wound up there by simply picking the highest hill in brooklyn that I hadn't already been up and simply setting out to see what I found.
This is a trio of my photos of NYC from some of my favorite secret spots. I am constantly enthralled with New York's fractal-like beauty. Just as soon as you think you've seen it all, New York will present you with a new twist or turn to pull you right back.
Here are three such turns. From me to you in photographic form.
I had had a rough day. Before you are the photos of the night.
Some portraits I shot for a dear friend Kirt. They were working on some new music and request "a picture of me with some flowers. It's more important than it sounds." And so not a week later these were produced.
A kind sunset from the rooftop of my Brooklyn Home.