Landscape photography, from a professional standpoint, requires acute patience, constant presence, and continued perseverance. One must plan meticulously while knowing when to adapt once the camera is out and the light is changing fast. Even with all this, there is a certain amount of serendipity in finding that decisive moment among the shifting weather, the changing light, and the unpredictable movements of the natural world.

My exploration of the majestic American landscape has been an inexhaustible well to draw on throughout my life, and it is that from which my work springs. Wishing to share its spaces with other, while at the same time preserving their truth, I have grounded my look in the light of the land, channeling its emotional resonance to arrive at a work that stands on its own, a tradition starting with the Romantics.

My editing process does not strive for transformation but instead looks for translation. An acute color sensitivity arising from my years of studio work, and an ongoing daily study of natural light (instilled from my early appreciation for cinematographer) guide these edits. Each scene becomes a puzzle to unlock, and as such, a preset will never work. There are often scales of adjustment that seem so minute as to not matter, but in the end, it will be felt.

The land continues on whether we direct our gaze towards it or not, and there is a sublime beauty in that fact, but we have the unique capability as humans to destroy it. There is a need to respect the delicate balance in which it operates, the symbiotic relationship it maintains with all living things, because there is a real fear that, in the not-so-distant future, these lands may, in fact, only reside in photographs.