This is not about anything.
It is not about me specifically, nor it is not about my photographic practice.
It is not about social topics, or other people.
If anything, as I assume a subject is a must, it is about a way of life.
It is almost like a story, but too full of non sequitur and tangents to cohere. A life, in gasps and shards.
Life reflected upon imperfectly yet honestly, with contradiction, hyperbole, subjectivity, the occasional poem, and photographs.
I am a photographer, but here you will not find any particular collection of photographs.
What is in evidence is the thinking that goes on behind the photographs.
If there is one thing (I’m going to tell you two) that I might tell you, one thing that might help you make sense of the material here, it is this:
My greatest inheritance is an ideology.
It states that Life is a continuous learning and growing experience.
There is no fin, only continuity.
I find myself living that principle.
If learning and growth are the ends, the means Love supplies.
My entire world order has come into focus as a result of meeting Roxanne.
The family, my family, has become the compass by which I navigate living.
In it I have found a way of being I can Love with abandon.
It has only now, through family and Love, that I have found a way to exist permanently in an artistic practice.
Every act, every word, every moment – indeed, every calorie expended – become the medium.
Art is a way of Loving.
The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.
– Marcel Proust