preview: climbing anxious spires

From the project climbing anxious spires, a collection of scenes and environmental portraits about awe, confusion, wonder and isolation.

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new direction

So the show at iTea Lounge a month or so ago went really well and I sold way more prints than I had anticipated. Since then I have sold some other pieces that were on display in the store as well, and I’m currently working on a shop setup for this website so you can purchase things directly from here and have them shipped or hand-delivered if we live anywhere near each other.

I’ve also obtained some materials to make wood blocks on a larger scale and am hoping to have some more work on display in another coffee shop in the coming March. Some much larger pieces and more interactive displays are in the works.

A lot has happened in my life and changed for me in the past few months. A big part of my life has been dissolved completely and the stress from trying to understand where my efforts and intentions failed has worn me out so much that I have become somewhat ill. I realize now I was so wrapped up that I mis-invested my attentions and lost balance of where the priorities of my time and energy really need to be directed. The new direction I’m moving in will probably integrate a lot more writing into imagery, rather than the piece itself being purely a photograph.

I love photography and I love images by themselves, however, almost a decade has gone by since I for some reason began pairing images with poems I’ve quickly written—sometimes based on the image, sometimes having no ostensible connection. There is a different type of peace I feel when I have adjoined the two and spontaneously compose something I get from the image. There is a Frightened Rabbit song titled “Dead Now” that has a line near the climax where he sings, “and there is nothing like poetry.” Sometimes I think about that.

I started writing for some reason probably shortly before I started photography. To me, as much satisfaction I get from searching for and capturing ethereal images and authentic glimpses of peoples’ lives, when I write something cohesive and I can hear the rhythm of it in my head, it is a feeling of ecstasy. I dissociate, sit back in my head and breathe calmly; I feel accomplished and at total peace, totally content.

Not really sure where I’m going with this anymore…so I’m going to eat a banana and try to sleep now.

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