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lately, i’ve been thinking/feeling into the relationship between order and disorder in both the natural world and the mystical. i recently made this handmade book study on translucent paper and cardstock as a way of grappling with some feelings that could not be named. “baptism” takes a series of stills from an internet archive video of ocean churning, and reimagines the frames as individual photographs, only distinguishable from each other when in movement. for me, the process of creating this little book has served as a meditation on ritual, religion, and finding form within the chaos of the world. though instagram doesn’t let you pickup the book and engage with it fully, i hope you enjoy some of these images.

“Baptism” handmade book with 60 inkjet prints on vellum paper, linen thread, cardstock cover. 8.5” x 5.5”

lately, i’ve been thinking/feeling into the relationship between order and disorder in both the natural world and the mystical. i recently made this handmade book study on translucent paper and cardstock as a way of grappling with some feelings that could not be named. “baptism” takes a series of stills from an internet archive video of ocean churning, and reimagines the frames as individual photographs, only distinguishable from each other when in movement. for me, the process of creating this little book has served as a meditation on ritual, religion, and finding form within the chaos of the world. though instagram doesn’t let you pickup the book and engage with it fully, i hope you enjoy some of these images.

“Baptism” handmade book with 60 inkjet prints on vellum paper, linen thread, cardstock cover. 8.5” x 5.5”

lately, i’ve been thinking/feeling into the relationship between order and disorder in both the natural world and the mystical. i recently made this handmade book study on translucent paper and cardstock as a way of grappling with some feelings that could not be named. “baptism” takes a series of stills from an internet archive video of ocean churning, and reimagines the frames as individual photographs, only distinguishable from each other when in movement. for me, the process of creating this little book has served as a meditation on ritual, religion, and finding form within the chaos of the world. though instagram doesn’t let you pickup the book and engage with it fully, i hope you enjoy some of these images.

“Baptism” handmade book with 60 inkjet prints on vellum paper, linen thread, cardstock cover. 8.5” x 5.5”

lately, i’ve been thinking/feeling into the relationship between order and disorder in both the natural world and the mystical. i recently made this handmade book study on translucent paper and cardstock as a way of grappling with some feelings that could not be named. “baptism” takes a series of stills from an internet archive video of ocean churning, and reimagines the frames as individual photographs, only distinguishable from each other when in movement. for me, the process of creating this little book has served as a meditation on ritual, religion, and finding form within the chaos of the world. though instagram doesn’t let you pickup the book and engage with it fully, i hope you enjoy some of these images.

“Baptism” handmade book with 60 inkjet prints on vellum paper, linen thread, cardstock cover. 8.5” x 5.5”

lately, i’ve been thinking/feeling into the relationship between order and disorder in both the natural world and the mystical. i recently made this handmade book study on translucent paper and cardstock as a way of grappling with some feelings that could not be named. “baptism” takes a series of stills from an internet archive video of ocean churning, and reimagines the frames as individual photographs, only distinguishable from each other when in movement. for me, the process of creating this little book has served as a meditation on ritual, religion, and finding form within the chaos of the world. though instagram doesn’t let you pickup the book and engage with it fully, i hope you enjoy some of these images.

“Baptism” handmade book with 60 inkjet prints on vellum paper, linen thread, cardstock cover. 8.5” x 5.5”

lately, i’ve been thinking/feeling into the relationship between order and disorder in both the natural world and the mystical. i recently made this handmade book study on translucent paper and cardstock as a way of grappling with some feelings that could not be named. “baptism” takes a series of stills from an internet archive video of ocean churning, and reimagines the frames as individual photographs, only distinguishable from each other when in movement. for me, the process of creating this little book has served as a meditation on ritual, religion, and finding form within the chaos of the world. though instagram doesn’t let you pickup the book and engage with it fully, i hope you enjoy some of these images.

“Baptism” handmade book with 60 inkjet prints on vellum paper, linen thread, cardstock cover. 8.5” x 5.5”

texture experiments on paper

I rarely show work. Mostly because I’m a bit of a perfectionist, but also because many of my projects are long and ongoing. When my friend @alyssamaespradley asked if I’d show some photographs for her zine release, especially ones that pertained to grief, I thought immediately of a more recent project that’s a bit of a departure from what and how I normally photograph.

These photographs, taken on my point and shoot Olympus, were made as both a formal and emotional exercise, documenting the process and fringes of moving. What emerged was a lot more. A meditation on what it means to belong to a place, loss in the face of the natural world, and the cycles of grief.

This project will eventually become a book, but I figured I’d take the opportunity to show this emerging work in collaboration with some great artists.

If you’re in Northeast LA and want to come by Thursday evening, message me and I’ll send you the info.

I rarely show work. Mostly because I’m a bit of a perfectionist, but also because many of my projects are long and ongoing. When my friend @alyssamaespradley asked if I’d show some photographs for her zine release, especially ones that pertained to grief, I thought immediately of a more recent project that’s a bit of a departure from what and how I normally photograph.

These photographs, taken on my point and shoot Olympus, were made as both a formal and emotional exercise, documenting the process and fringes of moving. What emerged was a lot more. A meditation on what it means to belong to a place, loss in the face of the natural world, and the cycles of grief.

This project will eventually become a book, but I figured I’d take the opportunity to show this emerging work in collaboration with some great artists.

If you’re in Northeast LA and want to come by Thursday evening, message me and I’ll send you the info.

I rarely show work. Mostly because I’m a bit of a perfectionist, but also because many of my projects are long and ongoing. When my friend @alyssamaespradley asked if I’d show some photographs for her zine release, especially ones that pertained to grief, I thought immediately of a more recent project that’s a bit of a departure from what and how I normally photograph.

These photographs, taken on my point and shoot Olympus, were made as both a formal and emotional exercise, documenting the process and fringes of moving. What emerged was a lot more. A meditation on what it means to belong to a place, loss in the face of the natural world, and the cycles of grief.

This project will eventually become a book, but I figured I’d take the opportunity to show this emerging work in collaboration with some great artists.

If you’re in Northeast LA and want to come by Thursday evening, message me and I’ll send you the info.

I rarely show work. Mostly because I’m a bit of a perfectionist, but also because many of my projects are long and ongoing. When my friend @alyssamaespradley asked if I’d show some photographs for her zine release, especially ones that pertained to grief, I thought immediately of a more recent project that’s a bit of a departure from what and how I normally photograph.

These photographs, taken on my point and shoot Olympus, were made as both a formal and emotional exercise, documenting the process and fringes of moving. What emerged was a lot more. A meditation on what it means to belong to a place, loss in the face of the natural world, and the cycles of grief.

This project will eventually become a book, but I figured I’d take the opportunity to show this emerging work in collaboration with some great artists.

If you’re in Northeast LA and want to come by Thursday evening, message me and I’ll send you the info.

I rarely show work. Mostly because I’m a bit of a perfectionist, but also because many of my projects are long and ongoing. When my friend @alyssamaespradley asked if I’d show some photographs for her zine release, especially ones that pertained to grief, I thought immediately of a more recent project that’s a bit of a departure from what and how I normally photograph.

These photographs, taken on my point and shoot Olympus, were made as both a formal and emotional exercise, documenting the process and fringes of moving. What emerged was a lot more. A meditation on what it means to belong to a place, loss in the face of the natural world, and the cycles of grief.

This project will eventually become a book, but I figured I’d take the opportunity to show this emerging work in collaboration with some great artists.

If you’re in Northeast LA and want to come by Thursday evening, message me and I’ll send you the info.

I moved recently, and getting set up in my new space has reminded me how much photography has the potential to be a living, moving art form.

The image itself is one thing, beautiful, held in time, grounded yet elusive. But the way the image transforms once it becomes an object in the world feels completely different.

I love the way Dayanita Singh describes that “the only way forward in photography is outside photography.” A controversial statement to some, but to me a freeing one. Photography belongs in the world and should be allowed to interact with it.

Anyways, here are some test prints taped to my window on a hot March day.

I moved recently, and getting set up in my new space has reminded me how much photography has the potential to be a living, moving art form.

The image itself is one thing, beautiful, held in time, grounded yet elusive. But the way the image transforms once it becomes an object in the world feels completely different.

I love the way Dayanita Singh describes that “the only way forward in photography is outside photography.” A controversial statement to some, but to me a freeing one. Photography belongs in the world and should be allowed to interact with it.

Anyways, here are some test prints taped to my window on a hot March day.

I moved recently, and getting set up in my new space has reminded me how much photography has the potential to be a living, moving art form.

The image itself is one thing, beautiful, held in time, grounded yet elusive. But the way the image transforms once it becomes an object in the world feels completely different.

I love the way Dayanita Singh describes that “the only way forward in photography is outside photography.” A controversial statement to some, but to me a freeing one. Photography belongs in the world and should be allowed to interact with it.

Anyways, here are some test prints taped to my window on a hot March day.

I moved recently, and getting set up in my new space has reminded me how much photography has the potential to be a living, moving art form.

The image itself is one thing, beautiful, held in time, grounded yet elusive. But the way the image transforms once it becomes an object in the world feels completely different.

I love the way Dayanita Singh describes that “the only way forward in photography is outside photography.” A controversial statement to some, but to me a freeing one. Photography belongs in the world and should be allowed to interact with it.

Anyways, here are some test prints taped to my window on a hot March day.

keep looking up

keep looking up

keep looking up

end of summer, ending slowly

From, “Eternal Garden”

From, “Eternal Garden”

From, “Eternal Garden”