Selected Works
Environmental photography that captures the essence of the moment and tells the real story.
Finding Calm in Flow
Julie is always doing something. When she's not making something or working on her business, she's running—sometimes as far as fifty to a hundred miles. Recently I made some photos of her while she worked on her pottery. As I photographed her, I noticed her settling down. Her usually “revved up” energy shifted noticeably, becoming serene.
These photos capture the calm energy of a creator in the flow of the moment, documenting the context and the creative process that she locks into while she transforms wet clay into art.
Kyle: Collector and Curator
It was easy to work with Kyle. He and I shared a history of skateboarding, riding BMX, and snowboarding. Kyle’s passion, pleasure, and business are collecting 1980s and '90s skateboards, snowboards, and BMX bikes. He has other collectible items like Hot Wheels cars and Star Wars figures, but it's the skateboards, snowboards, and BMX bikes that he's most excited about. He is smart, savvy, and has a network of “finders” that help him get his hands on the most valuable items, and connect with the people who understand their value.
His garage is like a museum, and Kyle is its curator and historian. We hung out for a while, having flashbacks and connecting to our younger selves. After taking it all in, I knew what images would show the world about Kyle’s genius, and passion. You’ll see photos of Kyle, of course, but his environment tells the real story.
A Craftsman's Quiet Work
Luc is a craftsman, a wood-worker handcrafting one of the most intrinsically meaningful and emotionally laden objects any of us will ever purchase: a coffin for a loved one.
Luc’s mission is not just making coffins, his values are centered on environmental activism.
Reclaiming “trash” beetle-killed pine wood, and giving it a new purpose: to become a beautiful, biodegradable coffin that is a vehicle to carry the departed from this world, and back into the dust from which we all came.
The first shoot lasted two days, letting me record the whole process from rough boards to finished coffins. His Old Town workshop is its own world; sawdust hanging in the light, the steady rhythm of hand tools, the smell of pine. The blue stains tell the story of the tree. The images of Luc’s quiet work tells the story of his mission.
Watching him work felt almost meditative; every cut and joint showed years of quiet practice, fueled by his higher purpose.
Smell The Gas. Hear The Smash.
There is an entirely unique genre of human walking among us: Demolition Derby people.
You cannot understand them, or truly see them, outside of the context in which they compete with each other, and practice their craft. And they truly are craftsman. They are artists, in their own way: Painting and modifying junk cars into fierce, well defended implements of destruction.
In helmets, and armor they parade their war-horse vehicles into the arena. Then commence bashing their cars into each others until only one remains running. There is smoke, dirt, roaring engines and crashes so loud people in the bleachers wear earplugs. Sometimes there are fires. This is a type of uniquely American performance art happening at county fairs across the country, that is easy to dismiss. But there is a story here.
The hands, calloused and oil-stained, that transform former family sedans into war machines during evenings after work shifts. The multi-generational families, organized around this pursuit. The relationships between the competitors. The unique culture. The drivers and their cars.
Here is America's complicated relationship with automobiles distilled to its essence: creation through destruction, community through competition, value found in what others discard.
Someone to Admire
Children in costumes become someone else: channeling the essence of the character they’re portraying. This collection is of a photoshoot with a local school, to document the kids “biography day,” a showcase of laboriously crafted book reports, poster presentations, and research papers on a chosen “hero.”
What you’ll see here is not about the historical figures. It’s about the internal experience of the kids being… someone else.
A third-grader squares her shoulders beneath a borrowed lab coat. For five minutes, she is Marie Curie—not pretending, but becoming. Her voice steadies. Her gestures grow precise.
In this moment between childhood and what waits beyond, I see two people at once: the girl with untied shoelaces and the woman she's already practicing to be.
The Power of Everyday Moments
Blink and you miss it. Everyday, we’re all walking past moments, encounters, experiences, and objects that have the power to stun us with their beauty, mystery, and hidden meaning.
But who sees them? I miss my fair share too. Thankfully, in India, I had my camera locked and loaded at all times, and happened to notice this group sitting together playing a game on their phones. Something about the light, the group, the shapes, the lines, the old and the new (and the dog!) felt special. Snap.
Only later did I truly see, in the crystallized image, what I’d been only dimly aware of in the moment. The composition, the colors, the light, and the new story of connection in an ancient place.
This photograph was one of 30 chosen from over a thousand entries for the Colorado Photographic Arts Center’s July 2025 gallery event. But in this collection you’ll see many more every day “blink and you miss it” moments of power, beauty, and truth from my time in India. I love them all.
Seeing, and Being Seen
There is energy in a gaze. An encounter. A recognition.
Call it a vibe. Call it a psychic transmission. But there is a quality that some people carry with them that can be felt and experienced — but is so difficult to capture in photographs. People get self conscious. They pose. Their natural energy vaporizes and they become who they think they should be. Not who they are.
Unless… they are in their natural habitat. Unless they are in the moment, actually having the internal experience that registers in their face, with their body, and through their eyes. You cannot manufacture that. It needs to happen.
That happened a lot while I was in the Gambia. The realness and authenticity of people simply having their lived experience radiates out in this collection. Every face, every posture, every action is a genuine expression of truth.
It was my honor and privilege to have these shared with me, and to be able to share them with you.
Quiet Evening Snowfall in Longmont
I live in Boulder County Colorado (Longmont, specifically.) My hometown is just like yours: Filled with breathtaking beauty, interesting compositions, people who are quirky weirdos (in the best way), and peeks into moments and lives and histories that are fascinating. If you see any of it, at all, which most of us don’t.
To be fair: The magic of the familiar is the easiest to miss. When you live there, you drive right by all of it, without seeing any of it. It’s all so boring and familiar, you can talk yourself into believing that there’s nothing to see here.
You don’t notice the juxtaposition of the fence and the blue car, or the quality of light on the silos in the morning. The way the curtains of a house glow, lit by a lamp at night. The weird little gas-station with the red roof, lit up in the snow.
I have made it a point to get out there with my camera anyway, and see my town with fresh eyes. Turns out, this entire place is filled with beauty, power, and truth if you can let go of what you think you already know. I bet your entire life is filled with the same. This collection is from mine.
We All Fall Down
Roller Derby is an entire sub-culture. Enthusiasts blend right in when they’re not competing. Your co-worker. Your kid’s teacher. You’d never know.
Derby day: They arrive with gym bags and wearing the clothes they wore to their day jobs. Then, they transform themselves into their alter egos. Maggie Murder. Scary Poppins. Cruella de Wheel. Knee pads over fishnet stockings. Fierce faces on helmets.
But… what comes through the most for me in these environmental portraits is the heart and courage happening in them, and the love and respect the competitors have for each other.
What you’ll see in this collection is people giving themselves permission to take up space, be rough, try to win, to fall hard, to sweat without apology, and pick themselves back up. But you’ll also see them picking up each other.
Whatever color helmet is being worn, this is one group of people caring about each other, celebrating each other, and recognizing that they’re all really on the same team.
The bruises fade. The community doesn’t.
The A-WING Superstars
People underestimate what teenagers are capable of. They mistake energy for carelessness, passion for impulsiveness. Environmental photographs of teenagers in their element often tell a different story. The real one.
I have had the honor and privilege of being asked to photograph people’s kids as they participate in the activities that are true representations of themselves at their best, most real, and most powerful.
This collection is of high school students involved in the performing arts program. A drum major leading the band on the field. A cellist’s fingers finding each note with calm precision. A rock band that makes an auditorium full of people move as one. Passion and talent are here, but also the steady presence of teachers who understand that excellence is a habit, not an event. All these kids are creatives, who care about mastering their craft.
These images are of character revealed—young people discovering who they are, what they can do, and what it means to commit to something larger than themselves. They are finding their voice. They are finding their people. They are expressing who they are, and who they are becoming.
Tiny Horse People
I love photographing passionate people who are in their element, and absolutely in love with what they are doing — even if other people don’t always get it. That’s my obsession. If you’ve made it to this part of the page, you and I may share the same fascination with and appreciation of Other People’s Obsessions.
One of the passion pursuits / obsessions I enjoy documenting and illuminating is that of a yet another quirky American subculture that takes many forms: ‘People Who Are Very Jazzed About Specific Types of Animals.’
Dog show people. 4-H contestants at county fairs, with their blue ribbon chickens. Rabbit people. Tiny horse people.
This collection is from a qualifying competition for the American Miniature Horse Association's World Championship Show, held each September at the Will Rogers Memorial Center in Fort Worth, Texas.
The people photographed here, with or without their animals, have organized their lives around their passion: Raising, taking care of, and loving their very special animals. This collection will give you perspective into their world, who they are, and what they care about.
What We Do For Fun
Who are you and what are you doing on the weekend? Many people have alter egos or relaxed selves that only come out when they’re off duty. This collection shows intimate images of people in their “leisure activity” moments, at a fair, sight seeing, at the beach, on boats, and more.
What I find most interesting is how the fleeting unguarded moments of who we are when we’re doing whatever we want reveal the truthful reality of how our lives and relationships really are.
What happens when we’re trying to have fun is the theme of the collection, but I find this interesting because of the honesty, the complexity, and the realities it reveals. Not just in what we choose to do for fun, but how it actually feels when we’re there.
We see joy, pleasure, and connection in some lives. In others, the experience is of disconnection, irritation, or apathy. I believe that all these moments are special, important, and even profound.
DRIVE BYS + ROAD SIDE ATTRACTIONS
An old building weathered over time. A post without its sign. Sunlight on sand dunes. Sand blowing across an empty street. The ghost of what’s left behind. Noticing with intention, seeing reality of what is, and what was, and the context of our lives that is so easy to miss.
I always look for opportunities to tell the story not just of the people that I photograph, but to show the details of the world that they inhabit.