About six years ago (as of this writing), I embarked on my most ambitious photography project to date. I call it the Image Trust, and, ironically, it is not hosted on this website.

At the risk of sounding cliché, here are my thoughts on “what photography means to me.” For photographers, these are common themes — very little of this is particularly new or revelatory. However, each of these themes is absolutely and profoundly true for me.

The other day, while sitting with my computer at the kitchen table, I happened to have a collection of abstract images on-screen. My son came bounding by, pausing only for a moment. He pointed to the above image and said, “That’s Utah!” and then continued on his way. Usually, comments about my photography from family members, however well intentioned, can be taken with a grain of salt. But in this case, his terse comment carried a lot of weight. Here’s why…

Lunar Eclipse of 2019 — Super Blood Moon. With cloud cover and rain in the Bay Area last night, I had given up on a photo. But the sky suddenly opened up for about five minutes. I practically tripped over myself racing and fumbling to get my gear outside in time, tripod and all. Five minutes and only six frames later, the moon disappeared behind the clouds again.

Just after New Years Day, I was walking with my Wife on a long pier in North Lake Tahoe. The scenery was amazing, but the sky was clear and sunny — perfect for a mid-day walk, but not ideal for a photograph. So I began searching for other compositions. Eventually, I looked down at the water and noticed what I’ve seen dozens of times over the years…

It is the end of the dry season here in Northern California. If you’ve ever seen a dry lakebed, you know how weathered they can be: broken branches, scattered rocks, dry mud, debris… not ideal for “postcard” photography. But I was struck by some of the elements of this scene: crevices, reflections, shadows, clouds. So I captured some frames and continued on my way. This photo was inspired by a charcoal drawing. Here is the story of my relationship with that piece.

Still is a photograph capturing a slice of time,

a thing that does not move,

a state of mind to pursue.