"Day" is about warmth and quiet energy. As the season shifted from winter to spring, I began noticing the subtle differences in how I viewed the world around me. It was as if the heat of spring brought energy to the world around me like flame boiling water. I found that I enjoyed expressing this newfound warmth in found still life both large and small. Temporary and permanent structures displayed a vitality that could express the energy of a city, people, or person; in this case, myself.
on "Ink" /
"Ink" is an exploration of change and conscious decision. The series is a narrative of choice and having to live with the memories, existence, and consequences. I wanted "Ink" to specifically describe a measured and calculated choice: a decision that we dwell over and attempt to predict futures.
I shot the photos for "Ink" at Atlas Tattoo in Portland, Oregon. My mother wanted to get a coverup for an old tattoo and I was planning on getting a new one with her. I ended up not getting my tattoo that day but a week later because I (foolishly) decided to just walk like life's a TV show just waiting me, and I like big tattoos. Though, on the way there I was fixated on the pale patch where art would take place on my skin.
I had never considered the change that would happen so explicitly on my person. This was exacerbated by the fact that it is and was my first "visible" tattoo, as in it's not hidden by clothes. I focused on my arm to imprint the image of my naked arm on my mind, because I was about to lose something so familiar and gain something new.
These photos are actually film taken with those ridiculous disposable cameras that you didn't know existed anymore. Honestly, the only thing harder to find than disposable cameras is the place that will develop them for you with a straight face. I love that they such were once so pragmatic but now they are fossils. I love that anyone can buy them with perseverance. I love that half of my photos had my greasy finger offensively jutting into the photo (not shown haha). Disposable cameras are the worst and no one uses them anymore, but anyone can buy them.
This work is about being a millennial guy at a music festival with his friends and feeling like a disposable camera in America.
I took the pictures for "Unhome" after having been living in the Pacific Northwest for a short while after growing up and graduating school from Florida. I had recently found myself at a crossroads where I realized how much work was required to build a semi-new life on my own in a new city. I always thought I knew, I didn't know. This had bothered me for some time, but it had never come to the surface for me to recognize and reconcile.
I had minor ankle surgery and Mom had come to make sure I survived. Thank whatever god for moms right? Bum ankles will quickly make you sedentary, and I'm a fast moving individual. Spending most of my hours at home was grinding at me.
I shot most the photos from wherever we happened to eat or go for chores. It was an interesting challenge trying to find what I found interesting about traditionally mundane spaces, but I found it rewarding to find new ways of observing. I was drawn to reflected light sources and space rather than narratives.
I took photos around my house thinking that they would be shit. I considered them practice shots and light tests. I was genuinely surprised whenever one of them would turn out for me. If that is not the creative process, then I don't ask me.