I believe, assertively and profoundly, in play. So much I’m thinking about taglining my business with it.
Will moving from the desert to the coast profoundly affect my architectural photography?
Evolution bleed: the unrepeatable way the heart decides the art you’ll make.
A year ago, I took an emergency trip to Rhode Island. In every measurable way, it jarred me.
There were Trump protests in Albuquerque last night. After spending the day on my couch, flailing for freelance work to do, and trying to make any noise in my head, I heard about a vigil.
I’m not exactly sure what seeing intentionally feels like, but I think I’m starting to.
Perspective is funny that way, though. One of the functions of the artist is to draw lines between visible things, through invisible things. But the moment two points are visible, there lies perspective.
After years of writing my way to the undertown of my hometown, I’m trying to find it again, with my camera, in the city I’ve lived the last 11 years.
Since I was about 10, when someone’s asked me how I’m doing, I felt obliged to lie politely.
I know worrying about my style is unnecessary energy. But fighting what you feel is just as bad.
When I leave my house these days, I have a camera on my back. It’s big, heavy, “serious” DSLR, usually with a big, serious, heavy lens on it. I like…
When I got back to town, I saw something new. Okay, more different than new.