When Light is Put Away
When Light is Put Away evolved from a fascination with how the darkness of night obscures and abstracts our commonly accepted perception of the natural world. The images create a visual language that uncover the potential of what these spaces look like when photographed under the context of darkness. This enables a transportation to an ambiguous time and place, a curious landscape that seems foreign, celestial even, yet somehow rooted in the peculiarly familiar.
In a time of social and political ambivalence towards the need to properly address the deteriorating state of our planet, the images adopt a sense of urgency. Scientists continue to reveal the severity of our climate, with human influence closing in on irreversible. With these new studies, science and popular culture have furthered their fascinations with predictions of the fate of our own planet and the potential of civilizations on others. What was once a premonition of hypothetical means has become a palpable concern.
In this context, the line between present-day Earth and prospective astral terrain is blurred. The images depict an isolated world caught amid a semblance of construction and disfigurement. This new landscape adopts contradictions of a virulent and destructive sense of beauty, revealing traces of natural resilience in spite of an unknown posterity.
I began photographing my younger brother, Ryan, on his 11th birthday. He was born when I was eleven years old, and with working parents, I became his caretaker. At a young age, that responsibility hastened my own necessary maturity from boyhood to adolescence, fostering a relationship between us that was more complicated than just brothers.
On Ryan’s eleventh birthday, I began to notice traits in him that I also possessed when I was his age. I began to reflect on the origins of our relationship, and this photographing lead to an exploration of Ryan, myself, and boyhood on the blurred line of adolescence. These images are a documentation of my brother and the landscape in which he’s maturing, yet they also contain my own reckoning with his growing up and the nostalgia of youth that accompanies it.
Walking Still is a reflection on the meditative form of walking through which I experience the natural world that surrounds me. It is an exploration of the sensation of passing through space, transforming the ordinary into something wonderful. With the only context of place being a hand-carved wooden sign reading “Little River”, the context of the spaces photographed remain unidentifiable, allowing the viewer to get lost inside the world created and experience these places for themselves. Rather than having geographic specificity, the images create a mindset and manner of exploration that invites full captivation and involvement with the familiarly quiet and still spaces passed through so often.