I am fascinated by the infinitely varied, yet bone familiar forms, shades, colors, movements and rhythms of the natural world. They are deeply ingrained in us as members of that world, as is the drive to find meaning and connection in the things around us. The image of a tree against a rock, a parasitic vine, or an unattainable height so easily slips into symbolic communication with our inscape. The photographic landscapes that I make attempt to illustrate that intersection between human imagination and earth’s appearance.

When something is important to me I like to know how it works from the ground up, and so as a photographer I do a fair amount of chemical photography, working with antique processes, creaky machinery, test tubes and thick gloves, but I also do not hesitate to use all available technology, mixing and marrying whatever techniques I need in order to make the final print as eloquent as I can. Right now, I am enjoying the more deliberate pace of the older so-called "alternative" photographic processes and their dependence on hand work. It is a bit of a novelty for me as a photographer to be making unique objects, prints that are not infinitely, identically reproducible. But the semi-preciousness of these objects, these delicate crusts of light-darkened metal, reproducible in theory but only each with their distinct uniqueness, are a beautiful alphabet to use when conveying my small, finite reports of the world’s infinite and astonishing lavishness.