Between 2008 and 2010 from sundowns to sunrises at places in Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana I made some pictures that were exhibited at the Artisan’s Enterprise Center in Covington, KY. Read a review of the show here.
Artist Statement:
I am not interested in freezing a moment in time. The pictures I take are blurry, vague, sometimes grainy records of possible moments that did or did not exist. They are echoes of light and space dissolving into a universe made of strings. I find inspiration at the outskirts of town–the old or forgotten places where crickets and crosswalks coexist, where low clouds still hang aglow in the city lights. During a single exposure I open the shutter and count seconds, adjust the focus, and change the focal length while designedly swaying and jolting the camera, swallowing up all the nearby ghosts of streetlights and shadows.
At 1145,282 miles-per-second, light is the most elusive of substances. Through a cameralens, light can become the flashing of airport runway sentinels, guiding passengers safely to the earth while sending up inadvertent signals into space. Light is a quiet buzz in a backyard, zapping moths and fireflies. Light is an entrance and an exit. Light is a particle and a wave, the message and messenger. I seek to decode it through pictures.
Photography
Between 2008 and 2010 from sundowns to sunrises at places in Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana I made some pictures that were exhibited at the Artisan’s Enterprise Center in Covington, KY. Read a review of the show here.
Artist Statement:
I am not interested in freezing a moment in time. The pictures I take are blurry, vague, sometimes grainy records of possible moments that did or did not exist. They are echoes of light and space dissolving into a universe made of strings. I find inspiration at the outskirts of town–the old or forgotten places where crickets and crosswalks coexist, where low clouds still hang aglow in the city lights. During a single exposure I open the shutter and count seconds, adjust the focus, and change the focal length while designedly swaying and jolting the camera, swallowing up all the nearby ghosts of streetlights and shadows.
At 1145,282 miles-per-second, light is the most elusive of substances. Through a cameralens, light can become the flashing of airport runway sentinels, guiding passengers safely to the earth while sending up inadvertent signals into space. Light is a quiet buzz in a backyard, zapping moths and fireflies. Light is an entrance and an exit. Light is a particle and a wave, the message and messenger. I seek to decode it through pictures.