In short:

I am a self-taught photographic artist living in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Here, I find endless inspiration in the area's quiet forests, serene waterways and ancient, tree-covered mountains. A lot of my time is spent exploring, poking around, hiking and camping, and trying to make images that are interesting and creative. I usually take some time off during Summer when humidity and insects like to team up on me.

My connection to nature began as a young kid when I enjoyed the freedom and solitude of exploring undeveloped woods behind my family’s Knoxville home. Today, I remain a lover of the outdoors with extensive backgrounds in rock climbing and competitive cycling.

I am privileged to have parents who have supported my creativity my whole life (including my obsessive classical piano-playing when I was very young and of course my high school punk band). I wouldn’t be the photographer or person I am, either, without the love and encouragement of my partner Hannah, who is an amazing artist and designer.

Despite my longstanding fascination with art of all kinds, I didn't bother learning about it very seriously (or using a camera, for that matter) until my late 30s. I have traveled a fair bit over the years, but I believe the scruffy, chaotic forests of East Tennessee are as beautiful as our nation’s famous, more photographed, national parks. I enjoy photographing the natural world on my doorstep.

With my images, I aim to honor natural subjects creatively instead of representing them literally. It is because they are such a challenge to photograph well that I strive to do so expressively and intimately.

Published Work

“Sacred Places” essay with images, Nature Vision Magazine, Issue 6 - Fall 2024
“Exploration and Remembrance in Southwestern Oklahoma” essay with images, OnLandscape Online Magazine, Issue 306, 6/11/24
“Limited and Infinite” Mini-portfolio, OnLandscape Issue 286, 8/27/23

Memberships

Nature Photographers Network

Association for Visual Arts

Nature First

Discussing exposure settings at Outdoor Chattanooga, April 2023, as part of their Spring workshop Series. My introduction to nature photography course was called “Framing Nature”, and it was fun sharing a few things that have helped me over the past few years. It was also scary because I’ve always been a nervous public speaker, but the class wound up being a success. I can talk all day with a smile on my face about this stuff!

This is a deeper dive if you can spare 6 minutes:

In February 2020

…at the start of COVID-19, I talked a good friend into a short road trip so I could buy my first DSLR. I’d been in love with the outdoors for as long as I could remember and for many years I’d wanted a good camera to document the amazing places I’d seen. Recent visits to Yosemite, Zion and Japan made me realize my phone wasn’t cutting it any longer.

Back home with my used Canon, I started photographing everything that drew my attention (including my dogs Clemenzo and Luca and partner, Hannah), and learning all I could. COVID made me wonder if the world was about to end, so I tried to document our eerily silent downtown and the city’s industrial sites. It was around this time I started an Instagram account at the suggestion of a good friend. I also stopped drinking.

Paradoxically fearing a drop in profits despite record sales, my employer at the time cut staff hours so I was free to spend lots of time absorbing online tutorials and experimenting with light. Here are a few photos from that time, February - April 2020. I enjoyed playing around, learning how to shoot in manual mode on my Canon EOS 80D, and reconciling the pros and cons of social media.

The “Big Welp” (“Goodbye” in coworker parlance)

On August 2, 2021 I was let go from my job without warning or explanation, after the same thing had happened to many good friends and colleagues. It was confusing and painful because I felt a connection to many genuine people I had worked alongside for nearly eight years. Even though I knew my job had always gone well, and nothing about the decision made sense, it still hurt.

The truth is, I had been foolish. I quickly came to realize that I had tied my self-worth, at least in part, to how hard I could work and how much responsibility I could shoulder. Hindsight being 20/20, I of course discovered a huge chunk of my life and energy had been sacrificed to making rich shareholders even richer - while weathering hostility as agreeably as possible.

Looking back, none of this imbalance had helped to foster a healthy mental state, so all of the anxiety, depression and confusion I had experienced eventually made total sense.

A few days later, I learned that many other people had decided to leave the company, chiefly due to the mountain of poor leadership decisions that had kept growing. Despite feeling shocked and low at first, it didn’t take long to recognize my (and everyone else’s) unemployment would ultimately lead to a vastly-improved quality of life.

This was when my early obsessions with gear and “How To” videos wore off, and photography practically merged with daily life. I began taking my camera with me most places I went, while both my photos and processes grew more personal.

Homecoming

Right off, I felt a visceral need to return to the woods I had already spent much of my younger life wandering. For years, I had reliably found solace by visiting nature. Hiking, climbing and cycling were demanding pursuits (at least how I enjoyed doing them), but they were really just different avenues through which I had let myself meditate and revisit my inner child.

To help combat anxiety surrounding the pandemic, and to quiet the psychological tumult associated with finding work, I began seeking renewed connection to the natural places close to home. Hannah bought me a nice pair of hiking boots, I scrounged a few camping implements, and off I went.

These newer solo experiences in the mountains, more and more with my camera, were different than anything I had experienced since I was a kid. I was exploring in earnest, instead of attempting harder and harder rock climbs or competing with myself and others for faster times on my bike.

The hikes felt akin to coming home after a long absence and I could, quite differently, make things out of them - images that reflected my internal life far better than words ever could. The new routine in the forests brought much-needed equilibrium to my life. I could feel my soul restoring itself after coping with corporate culture for nearly twenty years. It was a restorative time and I am proud to say I have maintained a receptive and creative mindset, even as life has introduced more than a few difficult periods since.

I continue hiking and camping quite a bit, simply trying to exist in my naturally beautiful backyard, while staying curious about the natural phenomena I encounter. I believe these experiences, paired with maintaining a receptive mind, are key to knowing a place well. Childlike curiosity, mysteriously steeped in appreciative familiarity, is a foundation to my creative approach. I hope it peeks through in each image.

Selfie from El Museo Frida Kahlo, Coyoacán, CDMX

Experience-driven expression - homegrown, seasoned, slowly simmered

Before I got started with all of this, personally meaningful, expressive photography was not something I associated with a craft I recognized mostly for its documentary applications. Since the pandemic, I have become intrigued by photography as a creative medium.

On a core level, I want to communicate the feelings I experience while connecting to the landscape, whether I have discovered something exciting and dramatic or enjoyed the simple solitude of a familiar place.

In many of my best moments I feel like I’m a weird little kid again, playing mindlessly and unhindered. I once again allow myself to explore to my heart’s content. Because of this, I hope to inspire wonder, curiosity and freedom with my body of work.

I cherish the natural places I have called home for decades to such a degree that I don’t feel compelled to photograph exotic locations, seek iconic shots, or do anything resembling a hustle. It’s all good here, where I enjoy the creative life at my own pace and in my own place. My love for my home and this planet is why I aspire to reach not only eyes but hearts, as well.

When it comes to processing my work

I do my best to honor the subject, as well as to convey my subjective memory of the experience. To me, this is a challenging but rewarding balancing act. In life, we benefit from processing experiences and feelings in order to support our mental well being. In this way, I actually consider my photographs to be emotions that must be recognized, appreciated and nurtured. Ultimately, they must be cared for if I am to continue connecting with myself and developing as a person.

After composing and shooting a scene that resonates with my intellectual or emotional sensibilities at the time, in post-processing, I’ll sometimes cool or warm its tones; experiment with saturation and contrast; or apply dodging and burning. These are quick adjustments that might take something like 10 - 30 minutes depending on the scene (though selective masking can make it go a bit longer). When color doesn’t contribute to a photograph, I like to see what the patterns, textures and overall composition have to say in black and white. Just as when I’m in the field, I normally just end up playing around.

That said, the use of more extreme techniques such as dropping in fake skies with AI, or employing unrealistic compositing, sucks the joy out of photography for me. These methods feel like working for a lousy demanding company, in a way, where everything is about explosive, short term “achievement” with no regard for the big picture. My sensory and emotional experiences, combined with associated personal meaning, are too valuable to counterfeit by taking this approach.

Ultimately, for what I want to communicate, a more balanced and lighter touch serves my message, whatever that might be, the most authentically. Heavy-handed approaches that can yield bombastic yet predictable results are not going to take me where I need to go.

A little about me