Where does the writing go when you set out with nary an end nor a goalpost. How does it flow? Set out on The Union Market deck I let my mind snake its way through the labyrinth at the tip of ten fingers. Is this how one gets into creative writing?
Keep up with my latest photographs and thoughts
Here you'll find my complete archive of photographs—excepting my nine portfolio photos. I welcome you to drift through my array of photographs made since this site's launch in January 2014. While my best work manifests in landscape and nature photography, writing has proved a growing passion as time drifts on. I hope you enjoy.
We find help for our mind, body, and soul in many places. Some planned and intention, others serendipitous and seemingly sent by coincidence if not fate. It is important to avail ourselves to help, especially in the times it is most difficult to do so. And no matter how hard it gets we can always come back to our breath. It’s the one thing nothing but death can take from us.
Autumn sings its beauty in mysterious, esoteric ways. Yet the comprehension is there if only we take the time to look and listen. The beauty of autumn reveals a promised truth: rebirth and renewal is always there waiting for us. Take a moment to listen and observe the songs nature speaks.
This democratization of technology has taken photography from a cloistered craft of the few into a pastime of the many. The equalization of this skill makes us all richer. Smartphones have become the great leveler, bringing high quality picture making devices to so many. This has allowed experimentation and practice by people in places who otherwise would have had no chance to learn the trade.
Jonathan Carr and I checked out Parkertown Docks for the first time ever. We hung around through blue hour for the full moon rise. It so happened to be the second full moon of October, making this a blue hour blue moon rise.
As humans we invest significant time and thought in self discovery. In so doing we present ourselves to the world as what we think the world thinks we are. It’s a trap. This dissonance stunts self discovery and leaves us mired in an inescapable loop.
I’ve demonstrated some modicum of skill with photography, flat horizon sunset photography in particular. And yet it is not enough. It’s no longer getting it done for me. It all feels like a wash, rinse, repeat exercise in both futility and repetition. Like eating the same dry piece of toast each morning with the same familiar disdain of a routine unwanted.
Located in Wharton State Forest in Hammonton, New Jersey, Batsto Village makes for a great outdoor destination. This historic old iron works town dating back to the 18th century is a portal to the past. It’s an idyllic destination for photographers of all stripes.
Leave it to a sunset to bring pause to a racing mind. A pause long enough to strike the muse and leave the photographer trying about lines of poetry. The result may not be great, but the effort is always worthwhile.
Whether by fall or by autumn, people love this time of year. I counted myself among their number as a child, but as an adult it has not been so. This has proved a season of struggle. I seek to recapture the magic I once knew. I yearn to dance again with Autumn.