One afternoon, as the “golden hour” approached, I came upon Hesse Creek Chapel. Its simple clapboard construction and shadowy cool interior offered me respite from the hot afternoon sun. A hickory and cedar fire had been lit nearby, and its smoke had filled the room. Sun shone through the chapel's glass and peaked through small holes in the wood to penetrate the thick bands of smoke.

I don’t know how much time passed, but as I picked up my camera I hoped that I would be able to translate the feel of that afternoon. Thus was born my Blackberry Farm series and the beginning of my journey as a photographer.

My study of art history steeped my mind’s eye with the rich and varied visual expression that is present in every culture. Although that training encouraged me to see deeper into context and sub-context, it also set me free to experience the surface of things, in texture, line and form.

I like to explore these qualities in my surroundings with a macro eye. When I assess a subject, I often deconstruct it into its basic elements by getting up close and personal with it, if you will. When I focus on something so close that I move beyond the object; that is oftentimes when I create my most inspiring image. I like to disrupt logical planar sensibilities, say by approaching a subject from an unconventional angle. It can be incredibly rewarding to shift our perspective in the way we look at our environment.

Generally I don’t seek to create an exact copy of what my eye sees through the lens. Much can be lost in translation, whether it is smell, sound or even touch. When I release my preconceived notions of the character of my subject, and leave some room for it to show me something of itself that I may not have already known, I often gain a deeper connection to its essence.

After a certain point, I must bid adieu and allow my images finish the story, for there is something that takes place in the distance between the eye and the film and the paper, that cannot be described with words.