I think of my photos as a visual diary or as visual poems. On daily walks with my camera, I observe things usually unnoticed, or overlooked as unimportant, without inherent attractiveness or worth. A water stain, a discarded apple, benign and in-between spaces, the time just before or after something happens, or where not much happens. These things become vehicles for an exploration of open-ended, questioning elusiveness and impermanence that I find fascinating. The picture becomes a metaphor for complex observation, feeling, and sensation.
The eye scans its surroundings,
the mind inquires aligns divides
in the perfume that gets diffused
at the day’s most languid.
It’s in these silences you see
in every fleeting human
shadow some disturbed Divinity.
— from “The Lemons,” Eugenio Montale, Cuttlefish Bones